King Arthur II
by Boleyn Girl13
Summary: What if Henry VIII's older brother, Prince Arthur, had survived long enough to be King? Takes place before the start of the Tudors and during the Tudors. Serious AU. Writen in response to a challenge.
1. Chapter One

**Author's note:** I was inspired to write this story from the Challenges section of the Tudors fan fiction forum, more specifically ReganX. The basic plot line is what if Arthur, Henry VIII's older brother, had lived long enough to be King of England? It is my first work of fan fiction, and my first time dealing with historical fiction. I am going to take some serious liberties with historical accuracy but if some of the details dealing with characters/historical personages are inaccurate, please let me know but I will try and do the best I can to make this story as accurate as possible. Lastly, I do not own these characters, history and Showtime's _The Tudors_ does! Enjoy and don't forget to review!

Oh and P.S. - Sorry if this chapter is a little short! I wanted to test out the waters before I started rambling too much. Hope you enjoy!

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**Richmond Palace**

November 14, 1509

King Henry VII was a man who was always careful, never one to stir any sort of rift in either his political or personal life, so when picking out a future bride for his eldest son and heir he was nervous that the pick of the youngest daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella would prove to be fruitless and worthless. He was thankful that the girl, Catalina, was as beautiful as he could have hoped and even though it was no matter, Arthur was taken with her. Although he never said it out loud, he needed to be sure that his son was capable of producing an heir with the Spanish Infanta within a year or so. That way, he could send his younger son into the Church, which would settle his sons, allowing him to focus his attention towards marriages for his daughters. It certainly would help if Arthur felt some kind of attraction towards Catalina.

As he watched his younger son dance with the new Princess of Wales, he couldn't help but allow a small smile to graze his usual somber face. Young Henry was a golden prince, but far too reckless even at his young age. He was thankful that he had Arthur, a truly regal child and everything a father could ask for in a son. Henry, or Harry as he liked to be called, was healthy and robust along with intelligent, but he reminded Henry VII too much of Edward IV, his children's maternal grandfather. Although Edward was loved by the people, he was a failure as a King (in Henry's opinion) and allowed his lust to guide his decisions. He feared that if, God forbid, anything ever happened to Arthur and Harry became heir and eventually King, England would be in perils as it was under Edward. England survived once, but he feared it couldn't survive again; he had worked too hard to secure peace in the country for a foolish boy to ruin it. He could never allow anything terrible to happen to Arthur before his Prince of Wales produced a son, or else he would feel personally reasonable for leaving his reckless young son as heir.

He knew his wife Elizabeth was pleased with the marriage as well, although he would never ask her. Elizabeth of York was a true English matron, one that would never question her husband, whose claim to the throne was lesser than her own. Elizabeth of York, eldest daughter of Edward IV, was very pleasing as a wife and had given him, so far, four living children that were all healthy. It was true that he had won his crown off of the battlefield and that his royal blood was through ties to a bastard, but he knew that for the most part the English people respected and feared their Tudor King. He was not there to be loved and as a general rule he was not loved, but his children, especially his sons, were loved. Arthur and Harry were the main attractions of the royal family, and the newest addition, Catalina, would prove to be another people-pleaser.

Drawing himself from this thoughts, he walked over to his daughter-in-law and favored her with somewhat of a paternal smile before speaking. "Hello daughter. I hope this banquet is to your liking," he spoke in slow English, a language he was aware she knew little of. She was well-versed in Latin and of course her native Castilian, but not so much in English yet.

Catalina nodded, smiling at him. She was a beautiful girl, he thought to himself. Her flowing brown-red hair and her plump body were all too pleasing to behold. He was glad his son, like himself, had a beautiful and royal wife. Another thing that was pleasing to the miserly Henry was the large dowry that came from the Spanish royal marriage. Like himself, the Spanish royal family was new, but they had power and he saw a huge advantage in courting them.

Catalina excused herself, leaving Henry alone with his younger son. He acknowledged Harry with a nod, in which his son excused himself with a graceful bow. Henry then sat back down on the royal dais, kissing his wife's hand and addressing his mother who was sitting next to him, as always. "What do you think of her?"

"Nothing special, but she's certainly fertile looking and has rich parents," the ever-clever Margaret Beaufort replied, twisting her narrow face into a thoughtful look.

"Indeed. How much did this damn banquet cost?" Henry asked his mother, who shook her head sorrowfully. Like her son, she was shrewd with monetary things and hated spending more money than what was necessary. However, she knew that it was important for the new royal family to put on a show when it came to foreign monarchs.

"Too much, but not enough to cause a large debt in the treasury, which is still as rich as it was before. You will certainly leave a great deal of money to Arthur," she calculated with a smile.

Henry nodded, turning his attention towards his son and his new wife. In the loudest voice he could summon he cried, "A toast, to the Prince and Princess of Wales! May they live long and prosperous lives!" The cheers were loud and welcome, as everyone present raised their glasses to Arthur and Catalina.

Henry VII may be a careful man but he decided that if Catalina could give him a grandson and secure his dynasty, this risky marriage would be worth it.

* * *

She wanted to write to her mother the moment she stepped on English soil, and the growing need to was painful. It had been far too long since she had heard her mother's reassuring voice. It was before she had left for this strange and cold land.

"_Be strong my daughter. Remember who you are," Queen Isabella was known for being a strong and able ruler as any man, but as she spoke these words she found herself tearing. Catalina was her favorite child because she was so serious about her devotions and about GOD. Isabella was always pleased to see such in her children. _

"_Yes Madre. Is the King of England kind?" Catalina felt foolish as soon as she spoke these words, but she couldn't help herself. She didn't want to go into a strange country with a cruel King without being prepared. _

"_I don't know my dearest, but I'm sure he will be kind to you. Both of our countries worked hard for this marriage to finally take place, so even if he is a mean man, you must not let your distaste show," Isabella was firm but motherly in saying this. She understood the perils of being married into a bad family, which she herself almost was, but she raised her daughter to take everything as a sign of GOD's will. _

"_Of course not. I won't let you down. I promise," Catalina swore._

She picked up her quail, tempted to write, but set it down in frustration.

Would her mother be disappointed if she wrote so soon about her fears, or would she welcome correspondence from her beloved daughter?

Catalina didn't honestly know.

Queen Isabella was a kinder mother than most royal children could expect, but she could be an enigma at times. She was heartbroken over her husband's various affairs, but never confronted them. She loved her children and always made sure they were happy, but she never let them argue about marriages or arrangements. Growing up in such an environment allowed Catalina to understand things that a child her age would usually fail to grasp. Dignity was more important than personal feelings.

Catalina enjoyed being around Arthur, but he was such a quiet and solemn boy. The King was kind to her but she wasn't sure if he was sincere. Soon she would have to let go of her Spanish ladies and gain English ones so she hoped to make friends with either her husband or father-in-law before they left her alone and friendless.

After spending a short while in Henry VII and Arthur's, she knew that she had a better chance with her husband than her father-in-law. As well as that, the young Duke of York, little Prince Harry, already had taken a serious liking to her so that was a reassuring sign. Soon she would have to depart to Ludlow Castle, the traditional residence of the Prince and Princess of Wales, and she would no longer see her new English family, so the friendship with the Duke of York would do nothing for her. She decided that it was crucial to make friends with Arthur if she didn't want to spend the rest of her life alone.

Having settled on this, she stood up and settled herself onto the bed and closed her eyes, allowing the tears she had been fighting for so long to fall. She had dismissed her ladies in order to enjoy the banquet which was still going on, which she felt bad for leaving so early but she had to be alone for a while.

She couldn't let anybody see her cry like a homesick baby. They would expect better from the daughter of Isabella.

They wouldn't expect her to write to her mother on the night of her wedding.

They would expect her to be dancing and her eyes should be felt with mirth, not red-rimmed with tears.

She strengthened herself with a goblet of wine, brushed her gown free of all particles, and fixed her headdress.

It was her wedding night, and the daughter of Isabella and the future Queen of England would have to be happy, even if that was the last thing she was.

* * *

Arthur, Prince of Wales, future King of England was nervous. His pale face told a lie that he knew what to do.

He never slept in the same bed as a girl before, let alone actually lie with them! He was only fifteen years old, what did they expect of him?

It was his duty as a man to lay with his wife in order to make a child. It was a simple lesson taught when was far too young to understand, although they never told him what he was supposed to do in order to make a child.

He felt stupid and embarrassed. Catalina was waiting in her rooms, standing anxiously by the bed. Although he wished her to be as comfortable as possible in her new home, he felt oddly happy that the dignified Princess of Spain was just as nervous as he was.

His grooms stripped him of his robe and her ladies did the same for her. There they were, nervously standing on either side of the bed with half the court in attendance. Although Arthur disliked his strict grandmother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, he was overjoyed that she had sensibly banished the idea of standing around while a royal couple consummated the marriage and he was more grateful to her than anybody else.

After the coverlet was pulled over the newlyweds and the bed was blessed by a bishop, along with the many prayers said for sons to be made, the couple was left alone with their thoughts. Arthur admired her, the beautiful Spanish princess that she was. He could see her trembling slightly and felt the urge to reach his hand out and grab her, softly rubbing her small hand with his thumb. She pulled away slightly, but did not resist the attempt at comfort. Arthur smiled and placed a smile kiss on her lips.

He had to be brave for her, he thought to himself. He had to show her that unlike his cold father and grandmother, he was human and he would be kind. He also had to be a man, a brave man, and lay with his wife.

It was their solemn duty to produce children. They could wait no longer, regardless if they themselves were just two scared royal children.


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note: **First off, huge thank you to all my reviewers, you guys are awesome and I'm glad the short first chapter was a hit! Also, thanks to all you guys who favorited/alerted the story who didn't review, you guys are just as amazing! I hope this update doesn't disappoint.

Secondly, I have made some edits on the first chapter; I changed the marriage year of Catalina/Catherine and Arthur from 1501 to 1509. I know eight years time jump, but it's all in the grand scheme of things and it will make sense later if the characters are younger than intended. Also, for the purposes of this story, Henry (not King Henry VII, but little Henry) will be six and therefore born in 1503 opposed to 1491. Arthur will be fifteen and Catherine/Catalina will be seventeen. It will make sense later, like I said. Sorry I have to make all these changes in the actual history, but like I said this is an AU fic. I will try and make it as accurate as possible but sometimes things are lost in creative licensing.

Lastly, a huge thanks to ReganX and Darkvampirewitch, you two are amazing! Thanks for all of your help.

Without further ado, the second chapter of King Arthur II! Don't forget to review!

(Hopefully this chapter is a little longer and more entertaining, although as it progresses I will make sure each chapter is longer and longer!). Enjoy!

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**Eltham Palace**

December 17, 1509

It didn't make any sense why GOD made him as the second son. He was stronger, faster, and much smarter than Arthur. His father may have preferred Arthur over him because he was much more serious than Harry, but Harry knew that his mother, his sisters, and even his sour old grandmother were fonder of him because of his charms and wit even at such a young age.

Harry might have only been six but there was a great deal he knew over his brother who was nine years his senior.

For starters, he was much better at Latin than Arthur, even though Arthur was more advanced because he had better tutors; Harry knew that he was better at Latin than his brother was when he was six. Although both of the Tudor boys could boast good looks, Harry knew secretly that he was far more attractive than his pale brother, his mother had even remarked how similar he looked to her father, and his nurse, Mistress Luke, later told him that it was a wonderful compliment and next time he saw his mother he should thank her gravely. Harry, even at age six, understood people much better, and knew how to win them over and show affection when needed, even if he felt none. Along with these things, he was always able to win at all the games he and his siblings played, he showed a talent for music and even could dance even though he had received no formal lessons!

Clearly, he was favored by GOD in so many ways, but why did He give the birth order to Arthur?

Harry spared a thought for Princess Catalina for a moment, his blue eyes and ruddy face twisting into a thoughtful look. He felt terrible for the beautiful girl, who was stuck with a cold fish like Arthur! How could his serious, solemn, and pale brother be a husband to such a beautiful girl?

It simply wasn't possible.

Before Catalina had come over from Spain, Arthur was dreadfully nervous for the wedding, although he didn't like to show it. Harry, although he felt slightly bad for his brother, was also gravely jealous. He would never have a wife; his father would make sure of that. From a young age, Harry's parents had decided that he would enter the clergy, which meant he would never marry a woman, even though he was a prince by birth.

It just wasn't fair! Although his parents were the King and Queen and he owed everything to them, he couldn't help but resent their decisions. Easy for them to say! His father married his mother as a means of peace, and he liked to believe that they were head over heels in love, even though his father was so cold to everybody, he had to believe he reserved some feelings for his wife and Queen.

Harry found it hard to believe that somebody couldn't love his mother. She was perfect to him. She was always kind to him when she visited and although she didn't play with him or hug him often, she reserved special smiles for him and ruffled his dark hair. She was never at ease unless she was around her children, and even though he was young he could sense the tension that his mother constantly held, especially around his grandmother.

He never called either of his parents anything but "Your Majesty" or "Your Grace" besides the occasional father or mother, but he heard other children call their parents "Mama" and "Papa". Mistress Luke had made it clear to him that he was not allowed to call them anything but formal names, even though Harry secretly believed that his mother wanted to be called Mama, at least by him, her favorite.

He was anxiously awaiting the visit from his mother today, because today he was going to call her Mama because his dowdy old father wasn't coming with her. She was going to be all alone, not even his grandmother was coming to see him. Harry didn't understand why, he was just happy to see his mother when she was alone, because that's when she'd play with him or hug and kiss him.

Harry longed to go to court and to stay there, but he couldn't. Arthur was at court now, but he was leaving soon with Catalina to settle at Ludlow. Margaret was going to marry the King of Scotland soon, so she was allowed at court until she left for the bordering country, so right now it was just Harry and his baby sister Mary. Mary was a nice baby and he enjoyed spending time with her, but he got so bored with her constantly gurgling and sleeping, so he was often quite bored at their little manor when Arthur and Margaret weren't around. He missed them. Mistress Luke and his governess sometimes played fun games, but they usually too busy supervising the household or his lessons. Harry almost looked forward to his lessons now, because they gave him something to occupy his time with.

But he didn't have any lessons today, but that was okay because his mother was coming!

"Your highness, the Queen is here," Mistress Luke announced, smiling at the young prince. She had taken care of Harry since birth and was very fond of him, looking at him as her own son at times.

"Your majesty," Harry greeted his mother with a shallow bow, waiting until she commanded him to rise. She was still the Queen, and as long as he didn't forget that he was sure that she would love for him to treat her as his beloved mama, not an estranged mother.

"My darling Harry, you have grown since I have last seen you, at Arthur's wedding was it?" Elizabeth of York asked, already knowing the answer. She often longed for her children and missed them when they were away. She was happy to have Arthur and his wife at court, along with Margaret, but she missed her two other children.

"Yes mother," Harry replied, beaming. He loved his mother's compliments the best.

"Have you been keeping at your lessons?" She asked, already knowing the answer. Harry reminded her so much of her brothers and her father, the York in him was clear. She had trouble keeping her affection and favoritism hidden, because at times she longed for the loving environment her father had provided for her as a child and could tell that Harry was not short of love or affection in his tender heart. Her husband had made it clear that she wasn't going to have influence over their lives, at least education wise, so she often stayed away, until she lost Elizabeth and then Edmund. She couldn't allow her precious time with them slip through her fingers.

"Of course Mama!" Harry replied enthusiastically, but then frowned at his word choice. He didn't mean to use it so soon!

"Oh my son, you do really love me as a mother, don't you?" She asked, tearing up. She loved her children but she knew that she was no more than a stranger in their lives, as all royal mothers were.

"Of course I do Mama. You are the best Mama ever!" He replied earnestly, not understanding the full truth. She looked so perfect to him and acted perfect as well, with such grace that never betrayed her feelings, how could he not love her?

"Oh Harry," Elizabeth replied, kneeling down to his level, which wasn't far since he was showing signs of being a tall child. She wrapped her arms around his skinny body, holding on tightly refusing to cry in front of her son. She never realized how much she had missed out on by refusing to get close to her children in fear that she would be disappointed by the lack of time they could spend together.

"Why did you come to visit, mother?" Harry asked, still not sure if she was pleased about his new style of name, so he aimed for a less formal name but still cumbersome to him.

"I have some news Harry. Your father wishes you at court in order to see your brother and new sister off to Ludlow and to say your goodbyes for now, and also for the Christmas reveals. He also wants you to have your own suite of rooms by him, since your sister is leaving soon for Scotland and the court needs at least one royal child in company. Mary is still far too young, and the baby isn't due for a long time. Also, your grandmother wants you to get lessons for clergymen who can't leave court necessarily to come tutor you," Elizabeth was firm on this last point, understanding how crucial it was that Arthur produce an heir so Harry could enter the church. Also, her mother-in-law was a formidable woman who oversaw her grandchildren's education, and it was her idea for little Harry to enter the church when Arthur had produced an heir, and Queen Elizabeth could not protest the orders of her mother-in-law. She had raised the Tudors up from nothing and she would not let Elizabeth's Yorkist ways get in the way of the new age, as she called it. Elizabeth felt nothing but dislike for the woman but could never say so out loud for it would displease her husband who did not take kindly to reprimands from his wife. Sometimes, she felt as if Margaret Beaufort was Queen and that she was nothing more than Henry's mistress.

"Of course mother. Who will be my new tutor?" Harry asked, curious as to who would teach him theology, a subject he was anxious to learn, although he didn't like the fact that it could be used against him. If he pretended to be a dullard and not understand his lessons, perhaps they would deem him unfit to enter the church, even though Harry was too prideful for that to happen. He always had to be better than his siblings, always.

"I'm not sure Harry, but I'm sure he will be a very learned man and teach you a great deal of things about your upcoming marriage with the church. You must be a good boy to your father, your grandmother, and to your new tutors," Elizabeth stressed, knowing that her husband would be very displeased if Harry proved to be too enthusiastic for his liking. Sometimes, when she was alone in her cold room because of some kind of ration or another, she wished she had married another man; a kinder man who would love her as a woman and not just as the mother of his heirs. She understood that it was important that the royal nurseries be filled with healthy sons, but she had four children already and was getting tired of all these pregnancies. She hoped the child she was carrying was a son, hoping that it would be good enough for her husband to have three sons and two daughters and that Henry would stop visiting her at night in hopes of conceiving again. It was unthinkable now because of her condition, but after the child was born and she was churched, she feared he would want more children. It wasn't that she disliked her husband; it was just that she wished she had more freedom as she once did when she was beloved by her father and mother and had a binding betrothal to the Dauphin of France, a time when a future as the Dauphine of France seemed almost certain.

Her father's death, Richard III's tyranny, and her marriage to Henry Tudor robbed her of her youth. She loved her children and she enjoyed being Queen of England and married to a decent man, she just often wished for more and realized that it was selfish, but she couldn't help it. She was aware that if she didn't marry Henry Tudor, their children wouldn't enjoy the same legitimacy that they did now and that she could have been executed as a pretender, as the Tudors were so famous for doing.

"Mother, you must see Mary, she's grown so big!" Harry beamed, looking up at his mother, no longer wishing to talk about his dreary future but about his beloved baby sister. He was sure that his tutor would be good and he could tell talking about it made his mama upset because she got the far away look in her eyes and Harry noticed she often got that look when they talked about his education, his father or grandmother. He hated seeing his mama upset.

"Of course, we must go see her. After we are done with that, I will have your servants pack all of your belongings, I'll stay here for dinner, and then we will leave for Richmond tonight together. I hope that you won't be too upset," Elizabeth asked, already knowing the answer. Harry didn't seem like the type of child that would hate a visit to court.

"No, of course not. If it his majesty's wish that I accompany you to court, then I am all too happy to comply," Harry responded, trying to sound neutral but inside he was beaming. He loved being the center of attention and with Arthur and Margaret far away, nobody would be able to resist showering attention on him, even his dour father.

He may only be the second son, but he was sure that God had something special in store for him.

* * *

**Richmond Palace**

December 25, 1509

Arthur usually loved Christmas, it was his favorite time of year because his whole family came and admired him and his siblings, and even though he was not a huge fan of pageantry, he enjoyed the Christmas banquets.

This year he knew it would be his last Christmas with his siblings and parents for a while, and that made him loath it. As well as that, he hated going out in public with his new wife, the proud Catalina.

Their wedding night was a disaster and he didn't like to even look at her because it reminded him that he wasn't lusty or passionate. He was dour, boring, and serious like his father.

At least that's what he thought.

His resentment towards his failure made him hate Catalina and her stupid Spanish pride. She laid in bed that night, not reproaching or comforting him. He knew that she was probably scared out of her wits, after all nobody spoke her language and she was a new comer in a stranger world, but he couldn't help but angry at her reaction.

All she did was stare at him with wide blue eyes, her little mouth twisted into a confused look. Arthur was ashamed upon contact with her flesh and cowered, fearing that he would be displeasing.

Now all eyes were on him and he couldn't stand it! Catalina was a stupid wife, not like his mother at all but too much like her own, proud and stubborn without a thought for her husband. She never tried to make any time after their first easier and although Arthur finally began to understand what was necessary, he couldn't help but feel ashamed at their first time together as man and wife.

Catalina stood next to him, completely erect as her curious blue eyes scanned the Great Hall at Richmond. Arthur assumed that she was surprised at the lack of decorations, food, and other things usually accompanying a wealthy royal family's celebrations.

She was doomed to be disappointed, Arthur thought cynically. His father's celebrations were boring when there were no ambassadors around to impress, who would send detailed reports about the wealth of England to their masters, and he didn't allow any extra money to be spent than necessary when their absences were noted. She would just have to get used to it, because next Christmas they had together would be spent at Ludlow, where their celebrations would always be low-key. She wasn't in Spain anymore and he was annoyed that she wasn't fond of the English ways, because she was his wife and soon she would be the Queen of England.

He looked back over at her, and softened at the sight of her scared face. It was to be expected that she would compare England to Spain, but he had to believe that she would soon get over it. He had to be kind to her because even though she was scared of him and scared of their marriage bed, he could at least make things more comfortable for her.

He gripped her hand firmly but kindly and offered her a small smile before leading her to the dais where the royal family was situated. He pulled out her chair, allowing her to make herself comfortable before sitting down next to her.

"Happy Christmas Catalina," he spoke in Latin, their common language.

"You too husband. This banquet is lovely," she replied, squashing all doubts that he had about her being unimpressed with English showmanship. He couldn't believe this pious daughter of Isabella would ever lie so boldly.

"I'm glad you think so. Would you object to me visiting your chambers tonight?" Arthur asked cautiously, knowing that she may be resilient after their previous attempts, and although they were usually successful in physical nature they were always failures on an emotional level. He could visit his wife whenever he pleased, at least that's what his father told him, but he was a mere fifteen and wanted to have a happy wife, not a scared one, as his mother often looked.

Usually he would ask her in a more private setting, but he knew that the only person at the table that understood Latin was his grandmother, his little brother, and Catalina. His grandmother was chattering way to his father as usual and young Harry was talking to Margaret, probably arguing as they often did.

"Not at all my lord," she replied with a smile, but he could hear the measured tone of impatience and disappointment in her voice.

"Oh God's blood Catalina, if you don't like me than just say it!" he replied in a harsh whisper in careful Latin.

His reply sparked her Spanish pride and dignity as she turned to him, speaking to him in a calm, measured tone, "You are my husband, Arthur, and have been for nearly a month. It is not my fault if you are not comfortable with our marriage or its duties."

"You are so insolent! But at least you speak your true feelings now, I was beginning to think you had no thought and that you lacked a personality," Arthur replied sharply, forgetting his usual cool temper and his resolve to be kinder to her.

"You forget to who you speak to, a daughter of Spain," Catalina replied, her blue eyes piercing through his own like cold daggers.

"I am speaking to the Princess of Wales, an English Princess, and you best not forget it," he replied, his anger apparent as he rose from his chair and took Margaret's hand to dance. His anger was even noted by his grandmother who shot a sour look to Catalina. Under normal circumstances, he would have cowered along with Catalina but instead he smiled, turning to dance, although he was a clumsy dancer.

He would not dance with his wife, visit her, or smile at her until she forgot her Spanish ways and was kinder to him. He wanted a happy marriage but she had to want it too. Until then, he would not be unmanned by his own wife.

* * *

Catalina was so glad that they were leaving for Ludlow in only twelve more days, where she could shy away from the royal family and her own shame. Also, she was grateful that the banquet had finally ended and that it was clear that Arthur wasn't going to come to her rooms tonight. She was glad for the brief respite to think.

She was fond of Arthur in the first weeks of their marriage and enjoyed talking to him, but his sharper temper made her angry. He was just as cold as his father and grandmother, and the sight of them together send shivers up her spine.

Tonight, at the banquet the two of them continued to send looks at her of scorn and dislike. It took all the patience she had to ignore the two of them, spoiled children drunk in their own wealth, true sinners. She didn't speak to Arthur again; instead she spoke to the young Duke of York and even a bit to Elizabeth of York.

She enjoyed the Queen's company the best, because she was the kindest woman she had ever met. It was hard to speak to her, but Elizabeth of York was patient and spoke slowly in English and used simpler words. She was nothing like her own mother, nobody could fill that void in her heart, but she was the best friend she could have met in England, although it didn't take her long to realize that the Queen held no power. All of it was in King Henry's hands and his shrewd evil mother's.

When she was Queen, she hoped to hold just as much power as her own mother did in Spain, although she had no right to it, she knew that she would be a better ruler than Arthur. Contrary to what Arthur, his father, and of course his stupid grandmother thought, she was not going to create a little Spain in England, she was going to respect England's customs but of course add her own influence. She learned a thing or two while she was constantly at war when she was a child alongside her sainted parents and planned to influence her husband to her ways.

That is, if Arthur ever learned to respect her, because it was apparent he was never going to like her.

She frowned a little bit as she looked at her Spanish ladies who would soon be leaving her. She knew that once she left for Ludlow all of her ladies would be recalled to Spain, including her duenna, and she would gain new English ones. She was allowed to keep one, and although she was tempted to pick her duenna, she decided to pick Maria de Salinas, a true friend since their shared childhood. Besides, her duenna was sharp and Catalina didn't enjoy her company, she already had enough sharp women in England to surround her and she didn't need a Spanish one as well.

"Your highness, the Prince is here," Maria spoke softly in her native Castilian. Catalina smiled at Maria and waved her hand to dismiss her as Arthur entered her chamber. Her ladies promptly bowed and left at another swipe of Catalina's hand, although they were reluctant to leave her alone with her cruel husband. Her duenna shot her a sharp reprimanding look but did eventually leave.

"Husband," she greeted him neutrally with a pretty Spanish curtsy and spoke in perfect Latin.

"Wife," he replied, frowning a bit. Catalina noted this and frowned as well, knowing what was coming next. "I have come to bid you a goodnight and to spend the night."

"I'm sure it was my lady the King's mother's idea for you to come, don't worry I won't let your secret get out if you just leave now," Catalina replied sarcastically, disgusted over the power that Margaret Beaufort held, although she was a bit jealous. Margaret Beaufort controlled everything at court, from when the newlyweds visited each other's beds to how long a royal woman was to be confined before giving birth.

She noticed Arthur cowered a bit, so she knew this to be the case, but he gathered himself before speaking, "I will not leave. We are still children under my father's control and I must obey him, even if you will not."

"Your father holds little control in terms of your grandmother. Even so, under the law we are not children. Last time I checked, I was over seventeen and you were over fourteen, although barely," she smiled at this last bit, knowing that his age had to have been a problem to him.

"Just stop it. I don't like this anymore than you do but nevertheless I at least try. You are such a boring creature when it comes to the marriage bed and I suspect even a bit infertile," Arthur hit a sore spot in the woman's pride; she had chosen her crest to be the pomegranate, an immediate symbol of her supposed fertility. He had to get a child out of her, and soon. He was under huge pressure to provide an heir.

"You demean yourself with childish insults against me. Leave or stay, but I will not lay with you," Catalina replied with a wave of her hand for emphasis before grabbing a piece of needlework, smiling a bit when she heard him sigh.

Arthur settled himself on her bed. This idea of marriage was going to be harder than he thought!


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Note: **Welcome to Chapter Three of King Arthur II! I'm glad that everyone has enjoyed it so far, and I'm grateful that you all reviewed and favorited! Hopefully this chapter won't disappoint. Also, for the purposes of this story, Thomas Wolsey will already be a bishop and a cardinal, despite the fact at this time he was just almoner (in history). Sorry if that offends anybody.

Also a huge thanks to ReganX for the help you've given me!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Richmond Palace**

January 7, 1510

"The Duke of York's rooms are this way, your eminence," Margaret Beaufort's voice was high-pitched and rapid, but Wolsey had no trouble understanding her, although he wished he couldn't understand her. Wolsey feared the woman, and he didn't fear many people. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the chance she was given him, to become papal legate.

He wasn't sure how she knew that he had ambitions to be Pope, but she must know. Why would she pick him, out of all the bishops in England, to tutor her small grandson, unless she had a use for him? Certainly it would please the King of England, albeit through his mother, that he became Pope.

"Thank you my lady," Wolsey replied with a smooth voice and with a face that showed no signs of pleasure of discomfort, even though he felt both. As much as he was pleased to gain favor, if he failed to teach the young prince well, he would be on the sharp end of some royal disfavor, and that would crush his own ambitions.

"You are welcome to as much time as you need, for the young prince's most important lesson is what you are going to teach him. Make sure that you do a good job, your eminence," Margaret Beaufort, despite her kind smile, stressed in a harsh voice.

Young Harry's room was smaller than Wolsey had expected, and it was much colder than other rooms in the palace. Wolsey never understood the King's lack of comfort within the palace, especially when it came to his children, but he would never say so out loud. Wolsey stepped in as Margaret Beaufort flanked behind him.

"Your Grace," both adults bowed deeply to the young Duke of York, kissing his outstretched chubby hand. Wolsey was impressed with the young boy, who conducted an audience like he was born to be King.

"Harry, this is Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, and he is going to be your tutor," Margaret told her grandson without a smile.

"Yes grandmother," Harry replied, examining the middle aged Cardinal gravely.

"Hello your eminence, I'm Prince Harry," Harry said after a few minutes of silence as he extending a chubby hand for the Cardinal to shake.

"Lovely to meet you, your grace. Where would your grace like to have our lesson at?" Wolsey asked in his kindest voice, scanning the room for a potential work place.

"Over here!" Harry exclaimed as he pointed to his favorite work area, already liking the Cardinal.

"Of course. My lady, if you will excuse us," Wolsey asked Margaret in a polite voice, although he was already annoyed with her hovering. He understood that Harry's grandmother would want to make sure that her grandson would want a proper education, but he knew that the woman was a snake and if she stayed around for their lesson she would find something wrong with Wolsey's method of teaching.

"Of course. Harry, be a good boy, and if you are not your father will be very displeased," she left with some scruples, but she trusted the Cardinal.

"I don't like her much," Harry announced after she left the room.

"To be honest your grace, I don't either," Wolsey agreed with a smile, not unduly concerned to be turning the young boy away from his sour grandmother. He owed the King's mother some gratitude for part of his advancements, but he found it better to ally with the royal children, not with their grandmother.

She was old, they were young. She was the past, they were the future.

Harry smiled back at Wolsey, thinking of something important. "You don't have to call me your grace, you know, you can just call me Harry. Your grace is a boring name, and so many other people have it, even my brother. I don't want to be like him, he's not as smart as me."

Wolsey was so impressed with his young charge already, feeling that God must have made a mistake with Arthur and Harry's birth order. Harry had the stuff great kings were made of, and although it wouldn't hurt Harry to take a few lessons from his older brother, he was still young and maturity would come with time. "Then I shall call you Harry. You may call me Thomas, unless we are around others, because then we will both need to be referred by our boring proper titles," Wolsey amended, not wishing to upset the child but not wanting to be accused of disrespect by his parents or grandmother.

"I agree, Thomas. Tell me, what are we to work on today?" Harry asked, picking up one of Wolsey's books and thumbing through it.

"Well, we are going to learn about theology. That book you are holding is my Bible. I trust you've had lessons in Latin?" Wolsey asked, scanning his mind for a memory of Margaret Beaufort's briefing about Harry, not remembering if he was good at Latin or not.

"Yes, I have had some lessons in Latin, although not enough. Will you teach me more?!" Harry asked, clapping his hands in excitement. He did not recognize Wolsey's Bible, because his tutor had never really let him read one before, deeming him too young. He was six now, and knew all of his prayers in Latin, thanks to his tutor, but he wanted to know more than just prayers.

"That's one of many things that I am in charge of bettering. All Bibles are in Latin, so in order to interrupt God's laws, you must be well-versed in Latin," Wolsey explained, glad to see that he had such an eager pupil.

"Good. I feel like we are going to be friends, Thomas," Harry replied, patting the Cardinal's shoulder good naturedly.

"Indeed Harry. Shall we?" Wolsey asked, motioning towards the books. With an eager nod from Harry, Thomas Wolsey began to teach for the first time in his life, hoping to make an educated Prince out of an excited boy.

* * *

"She did what?!" his mother was livid with anger, pacing back and forth through his apartment, squealing in a high-pitched voice.

"She left to go see Mary, at Eltham, without asking me. It's the second time she's done this, first it was to see Harry and to eat with him, now it was to see our infant daughter," Henry explained calmly, his brow twisted into a thoughtful look.

It was so unlike Elizabeth! She was usually glad to stay out of their children's lives, for it was no place for a Queen anyway. She was a sensitive woman, a good woman who he was pleased to be married to. Never before had she so openly disregarded him, or his mother.

"You must put a stop to this. If you don't, then I will," Margaret threatened, her narrow face twisted into an ugly scowl. Sometimes she felt as if her daughter-in-law caused more trouble than she was worth, but never like this. Henry and she were in charge of the royal children, especially with the princes, so she didn't know what made Elizabeth think that she could all the sudden play an active role in their lives.

"I will speak to her. She is just upset about Princess Elizabeth's death, that's all, and doesn't want to lose time with her children. When she gets back, I will lay down some rules about when she can leave and when she can't. I don't even want her going out by herself, not when she's in this condition," Henry explained, calming his mother down.

He loved his mother dearly, and always looked for her advice and blessing when it came to everything, but when it came to his wife he tended to disregard his mother more.

He would never say so out loud, especially around his mother, but he loved Elizabeth and took pride in his wife. He loved her meek nature and willingness to listen to him in all things, even though she was the daughter of kings. He wasn't a carnal or sexual man by nature, but she pleased him in and outside of the bedroom and was highly fertile. She was a perfect wife in so many ways, and wouldn't risk their child's health or her disobedience.

"You ought to give her a good beating; sometimes it's necessary to beat sense into a wife who has forgotten where she comes from," Margaret offered, thinking it was the perfect solution. Elizabeth was usually meek, and she could have had a worse daughter-in-law, but Elizabeth of York was still a princess by birth and sometimes forgot that she could no longer act like the golden daughter she was under her father. She was a wife now, and she shouldn't forget that.

Margaret Beaufort understood what it was like to be married against one's will; she got pregnant with Henry at age 14 and gave birth to the heir to the Lancasters. She sent her son away to be raised by men that would keep him safe and educate him properly. She would have never risked her motherly feelings to get in the way of her heir's education, and expected the same from Elizabeth.

"No, that shouldn't be necessary. She's a good wife, mother, and I don't want to upset her. She will understand after I tell her once that I will accompany her anytime she wishes to see our children," Henry was firm on this point. He would never upset an innocent woman, one who had given him so much. Henry VII was grateful to those who helped him, and his wife was no different.

But he also couldn't just ignore what his mother was saying. Elizabeth of York was born a York, and although those horrible days of civil war were over, he couldn't just forget what her father did to him. Edward IV stole his youth and made him hide in fear. If his wife took an interest in making Harry her little charge and darling and influenced him just enough, it could mean disaster. Arthur was raised the way Henry wished it, and if Harry had a flawed upbringing, one that could include his Yorkist wife, than Arthur and Harry's lines could fight against each other. He worked too damn hard to have that happen.

Harry was a good boy, and Henry was pleased with his health and good looks, and also that he was the second son. As soon as the boy began to mature, and Arthur was still healthy to his knowledge, then he knew that Harry's only place was in the church, and soon. If he waited too long, Harry could sire children of his own and threaten Arthur's heirs. If he didn't hold out long enough, Arthur could prove to be impotent or God forbid, die, and his last male heir would be in the church. If Elizabeth influenced him to rebel against entering the church, or turned him against his brother, the Tudor Dynasty would be another failed one.

He didn't think his wife was capable of that, but he could never be too sure.

"As you wish," Margaret let it go at that moment, resolving to speak to her insolent daughter-in-law next time she saw her. "I have enlisted a tutor for young Harry, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey. I felt it best to get a head-start on his education, and despite his nature, he is a very precocious child," Margaret explained to her son, happy to know that she was trusted enough to do such a thing.

"He is making good progress, and it is a good time for him to get a more advanced education, especially in theology. He will make an excellent Archbishop under his brother," Henry replied wryly.

"Also, Arthur and that girl are leaving for Ludlow tomorrow morning. Have you any instructions?" Margaret asked her son, glad that her grandson was going to the traditional home of the Prince of Wales, but disliked his wife. Like Elizabeth of York, Margaret believed that Catalina of Aragon may prove to be more trouble than she was worth. To make it worse, she was foreign, at least Elizabeth was English. Isabella of Castalia could prove to a dangerous mother to have for an English princess.

"Just that the Princess picks the Spanish lady to stay with her, and for the rest of them to be sent back to Spain. Also, that they make good time. I don't want Arthur on the road for too long; it's very cold outside," Henry commanded.

"Sensible, especially about the Spaniards. Tricky devils," Margaret spat out, her displeasure plain.

"She is still the future Queen of England, mother. I know you dislike her, but I have no doubts that she will prove to be fertile. Besides, Ferdinand and Isabella couldn't have raised a disobedient, thoughtless, and insolent daughter, could they of?" Henry attempted a joke, but his mother's face stayed unsmiling.

"I'm glad you think it funny, but at the banquet during Christmas she was very rude to Arthur, and I don't think women who are so shameless deserve to hold the title of Princess of Wales," she explained.

"She is fine, mother. Besides, she may just toughen Arthur up a bit."

* * *

**Ludlow Castle**

January 10, 1510

Catalina was grateful for the large wooden fireplace, the warm ale, and the bread that were already set out in her new room.

Nobody had warned her that English winters were so cold, as cold as their royal family.

Arthur refused to break the journey, despite the fact that Catalina had nothing on to protect her from the cold, and nothing to keep her warm in her litter but stones that were originally heated, but had gone cold within the first leg of their journey.

"_Your highness, you must tell the men to stop! Your hands are like ice," Maria offered gently, touching her mistress' cold hands and trying to rub some heat into them. Catalina was a healthy girl, but not even she could withstand this. Maria was not as cold as her, she was not used to luxurious accommodations, as Catalina was, and so she was a little cold, but not as freezing as Catalina was. _

_Catalina shook her head, showing a quiet determination not to sacrifice her pride. Arthur was just a stupid child, one who deliberately tried to hurt her. Let him try, she would not be intimidated by a little coldness, both emotionally and physically. _

"_For your own safety, please!" Maria tried to reason with her, but it was no use. _

"_I will not. That would make me no worse than him," Catalina spat through chattering teeth. _

_England was nothing like Spain in any respects. In Spain, she had a loving family who honored her as she deserved, and women were not demeaned. In England, she felt like the royal baby-maker, and although she knew it was her duty, she also thought it was not her only one! And Arthur's family could be called anything but loving. _

"_My dearest wife, tell me, do you need anything?" Arthur asked sarcastically after whipping the flap of her litter open, revealing a shivering Catalina. He knew that he could have stopped hours ago, allowing her to rest a little bit before continuing, or waiting until the harsh wintry breezed past, but that was before she was rude to him yet again! The cold didn't bother him, but it was apparent that it bothered her. _

"_If you could, your highness, my mistress needs rest, so if you could stop somewhere that would be wonderful," Maria broke rules by speaking directly to the Prince, but she did not care! All she cared was that Catalina got rest and warmth, and soon. _

"_I cannot do that, Miss, but I can tell you that Ludlow Castle is coming up soon, in about two hours," Arthur said in the kindest voice he could muster before closing the flap of her litter and journeying on. _

"_Sleep, my lady, please. Perhaps it would be better if you did, the cold might not bother you so much," Maria proposed, disgusted in English hospitality but knowing there was nothing she could do. _

_Catalina listened to her, closing her eyes and wishing herself in the soft gardens of her childhood home or in her mother's arms, far away from this place. _

She was still in a drowsy state, but the ale, fire, and bread perked her up a bit, allowing her body to regain heat. She still found herself shivering.

"Infanta, please, rest more. I do not think you will be receiving any visitors tonight," Maria proposed after changing Catalina into her nightgown, speaking to her in their native Castilian, hoping it would be of some comfort to her.

"Thank you Maria, but I think I will stay up just a little bit longer. You may go to sleep now. Goodnight," Catalina dismissed her lone attendant, glad not to have received her new ladies yet. She wasn't ready to deal with even more of the English.

Maria gave one apprehensive look before turning around to go to her quarters, but she found herself rushing back into the room. "Infanta, the Prince is here," Maria addressed Catalina rapidly, ushering Arthur into the room

"Thank you Maria, goodnight," Catalina replied in Castilian. Before Maria could say anything, Catalina commanded one more time, "Go to bed, Maria. It's late. I will see you in the morning."

"Yes your highness. Your highness," Maria curtsied to Arthur in heavily accented English before excusing herself from the newlyweds.

"Are you recovered from the cold yet?" Arthur asked kindly, moving closer to her after they settled themselves in bed. He frowned as she moved away from him.

"No," she replied harshly, moving to blow out the candle but was stopped by Arthur.

"Forgive me, please. It was unkind of me to use my anger towards this marriage towards you. You are truly a pleasing wife; I am just upset over this whole thing. I want to be a good husband to you, Catalina, I'm just scared," Arthur admitted at last, glad to have it out in the open. He couldn't continue to be stubborn, not after the way she looked so pathetic in that litter, shivering from his unkindness.

"Why are you scared?" she asked earnestly. She just wished that he had been open about this in the beginning, she would have understood! She had every reason to be scared; she was alone, friendless, in a strange country so unlike her own.

"Just everything! My father wants to send Harry in the church to get him out of the way, but in order to do that I have to produce an heir. My grandmother constantly watches me, and tells me when I am allowed to see you. Catalina, she gave me a schedule of when I am allowed to see you at night! I miss being a child again, and I am scared to be King. Father isn't as healthy as he once was, and I don't know how much longer he will be able to hold out. When he dies, that's it, I'm King and I will have nobody to help me," Arthur spoke frantically in rapid Latin, but Catalina heard every word.

"We will figure this out together. My mother and my father were partners in everything. I have no doubts that we will rule England together, and you won't have to worry about too much and I won't have to worry about too much. We will create a Camelot in England, just like the first Arthur did," Catalina amended, reaching out the grab his hand. After all, he was just like her, scared and confused.

"Thank you. My parents are so much different than yours, my mother has no say in anything that my father does, although my grandmother, as you can tell, controls everything," Arthur explained with a wryly smile.

"Well don't worry, I won't control you, I'll just help you. I learned a thing or two from my mother, but I won't create a Spain in England. I will learn how to be an Englishwoman, you just must teach me your ways, including your language. I can't speak Latin forever," Catalina offered, returning his smile.

"No you certainly can't. You forgive me then?" Arthur asked, twiddling a fine piece of her hair in his fingers, admiring the color.

"Of course I do. I cannot stay angry at such a handsome boy like you," Catalina replied with a smile, kissing him.

For the first time in their martial life, the two made love as husband wife, not as the proud Princess of Spain and the arrogant Prince of Wales they once thought each other to be.

* * *

**Richmond Palace**

January 12, 1510

"Your majesty, the King is here and he requests an immediate audience," one of her ladies announced to Elizabeth while she was stitching a small garment for the upcoming child.

"Of course, allow him in and then you may dismiss yourselves for the present," Elizabeth replied, smiling as pleasantly as she could at her husband when he entered her room. He was solemn looking as usual. She knew he didn't want to sleep with her; it was too early in the day and he would never compromise their child for his own pleasures, if he even had any. She was confused as to why he would want to visit her for her company, he hardly ever did, and the affairs of state usually kept him occupied.

"Husband," Elizabeth rose to greet him with a light kiss before personally pouring him a glass of water.

"I am disturbed and disappointed to hear of your recent visit to Eltham without my consent or without me. You are never to do that again," Henry commanded with a thin voice. He felt particularly weak that morning, and couldn't focus on his work, so he resolved to get this matter out in the open. Talking to his wife usually lifted his spirits a bit.

"Forgive me; I just wanted to see Mary. She's grown so big Henry, you should see her!" Elizabeth exclaimed. She was very pleased after her visit to the children's home that Mary was doing so well, and that her attendants stressed how well she was speaking for a two year old. She even called her mother for the first time when she went to visit. None of her other children ever did that at such a young age.

"It's dangerous while you are with child to ride horses to such a far distance. You could have fallen and lost the baby," Henry replied, and although his face was schooled into his usual stern mask, he couldn't help but allow a bit of concern to slip through in his voice.

"It was fine, I took a litter. That can't be what this is about," Elizabeth allowed herself to question him for one of the rare times in her marriage. She didn't think he would object to her spending time with her children, they were her children after all!

"Mary is so young; you could teach her things that I do not wish her to know. Same goes for Harry," Henry replied sharply, upset to hear her question him.

"Henry, it's not like that! I have long given up hope of influencing them; I never had such hope in the first place. I made sure that their servants were well-prepared and they had no lessons that day, and since you were so busy…" she was cut off.

"I said you are not to visit them unattended! Is that understood?" Henry lost his temper in a rare moment, raising his voice and deepening it.

"Never again, I promise," Elizabeth replied meekly, shrinking at the sound of his yell.

"Good. Tell me, how goes preparations for the birth of our son?" Henry asked, allowing a thin smile to graze his face. That was why he loved Elizabeth, even after he raised his voice she still refused to fight with him further.

"Well, and I felt him quicken yesterday. He'll be strong just like his father and brothers," Elizabeth answered sweetly with a smile on her face. After a few moments pause, she turned to him again, tearing her eyes away from the weak fire. "If I am not to visit the children unattended, can we at least visit them more? I miss them so much when they are not at court."

"I will think about it," Henry replied coolly, not wishing to speak about their children anymore.

"Oh Henry, that would please me so much," Elizabeth replied, smiling at him and reaching out to touch his hand. It was ice cold to the touch. "Are you ill husband?" she asked, concerned.

"It's nothing, just a mild cough. Nothing for you to be concerned about. I must be going though, I have a meeting soon. Take care of yourself, and our son," Henry dismissed himself, kissing his wife tenderly on the lips before leaving. He was glad that she was as malleable as before, and wasn't gaining iron will.

He was lucky to have such a wife.

* * *

Margaret Beaufort was pleased to hear of all the progress young Harry was making, so she decided to visit him unannounced to quiz him on his Latin.

Margaret liked to be kept abreast about all developments in the family that she raised from the ashes through her only child. She was proud of him and loved him, only him. She didn't love her grandchildren; she just saw them regularly to make sure that they were growing into smart, strong, healthy children and suitable heirs. She spoiled them with grand tutors and educational books, not with toys or with motherly love. Things like that would make them weak.

"Harry, my boy, you are so smart!" a female voice cried from within Harry's room, her voice infused with pleasure and love.

"Thank you Mama!"

That_ stupid_ woman!

"Just what do you think you are doing?!" Margaret yelled, marching into the room. She was clearly dismayed to find Elizabeth of York hugging her youngest son with the devotion of any old mother. She was the Queen of England and was knelt at child-level hugging a Prince of England! Insulting!

"I was simply speaking to my son, my lady," Elizabeth of York defended herself meekly, raising from the ground and placing a protective arm around Harry, who scooted closer to her.

"Alone, your majesty? I had thought my son, the King, had made it plain to you that you are not allowed to see our heirs without him or myself in attendance," Margaret explained, reaching her hand out for young Harry to take, "Come now, boy. I must see how you are progressing on your lessons. Playing will get you nowhere."

"I had thought that his majesty only meant that I was not allowed to see OUR children while they were at Eltham unattended, for fear that the journey would cause harm to our child. I had no idea he meant at court as well, while we are under the same roof," Elizabeth explained, pleading ignorance.

"You are stupid as well as insolent. I don't know who you think you are, but you aren't the beloved daughter of a King anymore, you are wife to one now. Wise up," Margaret explained, shaking her hand once more for Harry to take, but it only made him bury deeper into his beloved Mama's skirts.

"Stay away from my Mama!" Harry shouted as Margaret Beaufort moved closer to take him by force. Although his voice was muffled because of his hiding spot, he shook his finger for emphasis.

"Look at what you have done. Two unsupervised visits and already you have changed him into a weakling. Stupid women!" Margaret allowed her temper to get the best of her. With all of the might the old woman could conjure in her body, she struck her daughter-in-law hard in the face, leaving a red welt and a bloody nose when she turned back around, her eyes already welling with tears at the sheer force of the blow.

Elizabeth screamed on contact, and couldn't stop screaming when it was over. Nobody had ever dared to touch her that way, not even Henry at his maddest!

"No!" Harry shouted, stepping in-between his grandmother and mother. He swung his chubby leg back and kicked his grandma in the shin, causing her to grasp his ear hard.

"You, your grace, will be going to see your father. He will do what he sees fit with you. And my dearest daughter, stop your screaming!" Margaret shouted, shoving Harry in the direction of the door where one of his mother's attendants led him to see his father. Harry looked back in his mama's direction one more time, smiling at her small smile towards him.

One of the Queen's other ladies hurried in to clean up the blood that was dripping from Elizabeth's nose. "Oh stop fusing. She deserved it," Margaret scolded, a disgusted look plastered on her face. "Go, follow your beloved son, and go see what the King has in store for both of you. It should be far more painful than what this old woman just did," Margaret commanded, motioning for the door which Elizabeth rushed out of with her ladies flanked behind her, all worried. Margaret noticed that she didn't cry once, just screamed. Perhaps the daughter of Edward IV had more in her than she had thought.

No matter though, she thought once more. This is the Tudors time now, the Yorks had there time to pass, and they failed. She wouldn't let anybody get in the way of what she had planned for her new family, not even the mother of her heirs.


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's Note: **Welcome to chapter four of King Arthur II! I didn't think I'd have it up and ready so soon, but here it is. For all of you who wanted Margaret Beaufort to be on the sharp end of a royal reprimand, I hope this satisfies you all! Huge thanks to all my reviewers! You guys are awesome!

Also to ReganX, thank you so much, you are amazing! A lot of my ideas are inspired by her, so she deserves credit :]

Merry Christmas or whatever else you celebrate around this time of year :)! Enjoy!

* * *

**Richmond Palace**

January 12, 1510

Harry stood before his father, shaking with nerves, but proud of what he had done.

How dare anybody hit his mama, the Queen of England! His grandmother may have been more powerful than his mama, but she still wasn't the Queen of England.

"You hit Lady Beaufort, your grace, without thought?" Henry asked neutrally, looking down at his youngest son who was on his knees, a scared look plastered on his face. He was impressed that the little boy held such loyalty towards his mother, but he felt that it was misplaced loyalty and for all the wrong reasons. Elizabeth was the only adult who was nurturing to him, and so he was drawn to her. It was weakness, and Henry VII disliked weakness, especially in his heirs. Arthur was shy and weak; he certainly didn't need his brother to be loud and weak as well.

"No, father…" Harry began to explain, but he was cut off.

"Father? Father! I am your king, your grace, not your father!" Henry shouted, uncharacteristically loosing his temper and causing his wife, who was off in the distance still nursing her bloody nose, to flinch. However, Harry didn't move at all, still keeping his eyes glued to the ground, and his body in a bow, but never making the slightest nose of discomfort or fear.

"No, your majesty, it was not like that. My Lady the King's mother hit her majesty, causing her to bleed. I was simply defending the Queen, as any noble subject would do," Harry explained, daring to look up at his father, who, despite his anger, still had a schooled calm expression on his face.

"And you did not think it would be equally as disrespectful to kick the king's mother?" Henry asked, having the sense of humor to be mildly amused. His son would be a better knight than churchman; however, he was not going to be anything but a churchman, so he had better cut it off the chivalry act now.

"Of course it is disrespect to kick the king's mother, but it is equally disrespectful to hit the Queen, your majesty, especially when she is with child, a future heir to your majesty's throne," Harry spoke majestically with the grace of a man four times his age, if not older. Henry was impressed, but refused to acknowledge his feelings. He also couldn't help but think that his son had a point, Elizabeth was carrying a child, and if his mother's slap was powerful enough to cause a welted check and a bloody nose, just a bit more force could have knocked Elizabeth to the ground. It did not look well for their child if she were to hit the ground. Henry also knew that Harry probably would have defended own his mother anyway, regardless if she were pregnant or not, so he refused to acknowledge the sense in his son's words.

"Your grace is to be locked in your rooms for a full week and will not be permitted to leave, even for meals. They will be provided for you. You will not receive visitors, expect for me and Lady Beaufort. If you show disrespect to either of us ever again, you will be banished to Eltham until I take my last breath, do you understand boy?" Henry asked, growing tired of the interview already. He had more important things to worry about then his son's foolish behavior.

"Yes your majesty," Harry responded, frowning. That meant that he wouldn't have any lessons, and he really enjoyed the one's he was receiving from Thomas! Today they were supposed to start actually reading Genesis, but not anymore. His stupid grandmother ruined everything for him. He slowly backed away, his body still in a bow, until he was out of sight from his father.

Henry stepped off of his throne, harshly grabbing Elizabeth from the corner of his receiving room and pulling her into more private quarters. He didn't want any courtiers to witness the reprimand that he was about to give to his wife. His mother didn't dare follow him, staying outside of his throne room until he beckoned her. He would deal with her later.

Elizabeth would not allow herself to cry, despite the growing pain in her check, and that her bottom lip was swelling. She didn't expect to be hit with such a force by her mother-in-law, but apparently the old woman had the physical strength of a man.

"Are you hurt?" Henry asked, helping settle her into a chair. She held a towel to her nose and he noticed her swelling face. He couldn't help but feel bad for her.

"Yes," Elizabeth responded sharply, glaring at her husband. He had not spoken one word to his mother about the whole thing, even though she had dared to strike his wife, the mother of his children! It was intolerable.

"Stop it now, or I will hit you even harder," Henry threatened in response to his wife's cool attitude. He understood that being hit was frightening, especially when one was not used to such rough behavior, but he would not tolerate the blame being passed onto his head.

Elizabeth nodded, the idea of being hit again striking enough fear to stop her disobedience. "You are not to visit ANY of our children anymore, unless my mother and I are both with you. I don't care if they are here, at Richmond, or as far away as Germany, you are not to visit them without me and her present, got it?" he commanded sharply, shaking her shoulders for emphasis, causing her to whimper in pain.

"Yes, your majesty," Elizabeth responded, her heart sinking at every word he spoke. She had hoped that he would have a measure of sympathy since she was carrying his child and his mother had almost killed his child. Her hope was crushed when Henry refused to look at her when she went to go see him at Margaret's insistence; instead he nodded and listened to every word his mother said, believing that she was sensible for hitting his own, pregnant wife! She had never been anything but loving and kind towards him and she was repaid with a scornful mother-in-law from hell and a cold husband. It wasn't as if she had failed at being a Queen either, she had bore him two healthy sons and two daughters, and they only lost two children, but both were born alive. She allowed her mother-in-law to control everything that she did, until this.

Elizabeth didn't honestly think she would be alive right now if she had defied her more times than just this once.

"Furthermore, you will go into confinement until the birth of our son. You will not have to lie-in until six weeks, but you will not be permitted to leave your apartments," Henry dished out the last commend with some difficulty, but he knew it was necessary. Elizabeth had to learn that she couldn't continue to defy him, even if it was innocent enough. He knew that making her stay in seclusion until the child was born was more than enough time for her to learn her lesson, and to the rest of the court it would look like was doing it for his wife's safety. He had to do it, no matter how cruel it was. He had his fears about her influencing their children, and his fears were justified since he was the King of England and she was simply just his Queen Consort, not his equal or superior, but his inferior. She had no right to question them or disobey his orders.

"Yes husband," Elizabeth replied, knowing it would do no good to argue.

She sold away her freedom the night of her wedding and she was never going to get it back, as painful as that was. He would lock her in her own apartments, like a disobedient daughter, for six long months. Elizabeth of York was no stranger to childbirth, so she was used to confinements. Usually, she entered the birthing chamber six weeks before she was due, and would leave six weeks after she had birth. This usually amounted to three months of time, sometimes more if the baby was late. This time, she would be confined to her room for six long months, and then six weeks after childbirth she would be allowed to re-enter the court, all because she wished to see her little son and love him like a natural mother. It was so unfair!

Despite herself, Elizabeth began to cry. Henry was dismayed, walking towards her and pulling her into his arms from the chair. "Let me see it," Henry gently commanded, gently moving the cloth from her bleeding nose. Elizabeth let out a little gasp at the lack of pressure, which was making it feel better. More tears began to flow. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Henry apologized for his mother in the softest voice he could muster, even throwing in a term of endearment. He had never seen her like this; he was used to her being more dignified and handling things with less sensitivity. It wasn't just physical pain either.

He had hurt her emotionally, and he regretted it now. He couldn't allow his usual cold kingly demur get in the way of his wife's wellbeing. She handled discomfort so well, but this wasn't discomfort, this was pain. He did love her, in his own way, and it hurt him to see her in so much pain.

"My mother won't have to be with us when we see our children, it can just be us. She won't be able to ever hurt you again," Henry swore to his wife, causing her to smile a bit despite her pain. Remembering something else he had harshly commanded just moments earlier, he spoke his next words with kindness. "You don't have to go into confinement early either. I was just angry but I can see now that you were just acting as a mother, not as Queen, which is understandable. Besides, my mother isn't Queen, you are, and I won't let her hurt you anymore. You just can't see our children with me around, because I want them raised my way, and my mother's way. I know you don't mean harm, but it may be in ignorance that you influence them wrongly. My mother will still continue to have an active upbringing in our children's lives, but she won't hurt you again, I promise. You are still my Queen, and she is a subject, despite how highly she thinks of herself."

"Oh, Henry, you are so kind," Elizabeth replied, allowing more tears to fall onto his caressing hand, enjoying this rare moment of comfort and love shown by her husband. She could deal with supervised visits, she was just supposed to be a visitor anyway, and if her husband was as kind to her as he was now, she wouldn't mind spending extra time with him. It was just that insufferable mother of his!

He cleared his throat, not wanting to cry either. It would be unseemly. "Please go see a physician," Henry commanded gently, helping her rise to her feet and moving her out the door, ignoring his mother's pleas to see him.

After personally escorting Elizabeth to his royal physician and overseeing her exam to make sure that all was well and that his mother's slap did no harm to her or their child, he sent a message to his mother to come meet him in his rooms.

Despite originally agreeing with his mother, thinking that Elizabeth had really flaunting his orders brazenly, after speaking with her any man with sense could see this was not the case, so his indifference towards his mother slowly turned to anger.

His mother had always been jealous of Elizabeth's royal status, since Margaret had married a Lancaster, not really being one herself, and she married a man who had been bastardized. Henry knew that his claim to the throne was tedious at best and he was grateful to his mother for arranging his marriage to the beautiful and majestic Elizabeth of York, daughter to Edward IV, and if he was honest with himself, a true heir to the throne without her brothers. She was the one who solidified their children's rights, and Margaret Beaufort, the founder of this royal family, ought to be grateful.

Instead, she treated Elizabeth with scorn. Henry admired Elizabeth for treating his mother so kindly and avoiding confrontation, even obeying her orders to the letter after slapping her in front of their son. Henry knew that he had never stood up for Elizabeth because he felt like his mother was simply looking out for the best of the family, and Elizabeth was always so pleasing. He never would have predicted she would dare to strike his wife, an anointed Queen of England as well as a Princess.

Henry turned to his mother for advice more than anybody else, despite her being female. She was shrewd and clever, especially when it came to educating the children, but he hated it when she got involved with things that he did not ask her to be involved in, such as his marriage.

She was good at managing the children's education, but nobody could call her loving. She was good with advice on how to spend his money, but she was no treasurer.

Honestly, Henry was sick of dealing with her, and sighed with impatience as soon as she opened her mouth to speak.

"What a weak-willed woman. I would have thought she would have been grateful for your concessions and not so soft. She may be the daughter of the _great_ King Edward but she doesn't behave as befits a princess of royal blood," Margaret complained without prologue, sitting down in the chair opposite Henry's, her face spelling out her dismay.

"Mother, stop it. You will not speak about the Queen of England in such a matter; she is still my wife and must be treated as such. You will address her properly and yield precedence to her at all times. You will walk further behind her from now on. You are not allowed to visit her unannounced and alone any longer. You may continue to supervise all of Princes' and Princesses' households, including their education, but you may not dismiss The Queen when she comes to visit them, since she will be accompanied by me at all times from now on. You may visit them unannounced but not if me and the Queen are visiting. You may continue to set court rules and share ideas with me regarding social standards, but you may not give me advice about my marriage any longer, understood?" Henry commanded, spelling out all the things he wished to change but never had the excuse to, until now. The way that his mother acted like unofficial Queen needed to be stopped. He was a man and needed no help from either his mother, or his wife.

"All this because I slapped her? Son, she deserved it! She deliberately disobeyed our orders by seeing our heirs without us present!" Margaret exclaimed, outraged at this idea of her being less than that sad excuse for a woman and Queen.

"She did not maliciously defy me; she did it in ignorance and out of love for MY children. She is an anointed, and pregnant, Queen of England, how did you think I would react if one of my subjects hit her, mother? It is out of my love for you that I do not have you thrown in the Tower!" Henry shouted, angry at her idea of superiority. In some ways he owed her his throne, but he still commanded the troops to battle and he still created his heirs. His mother did not play a part in their conception or their good looks, which was the York in them. Elizabeth was so mellow and pleasing while is mother was sharp and temperamental, but useful. She took things off of his list of kingly duties that he would have hated to have dealt with, and she dealt with them beautifully, and for that she would continue to be honored, but she needed to understand her place was below his.

"What is wrong with you? Have you gone soft for your love for this undeserving woman Henry?" Margaret asked, fearing the answer. She had worked too hard for him to become King for him to ruin it for the next generation!

"No, of course not. I am no longer a boy though, mother, and I don't need to answer to you. You are in a privileged position in court because I choose to repay you for all you did for me. Do not make me regret it. You may leave me now," the tone of dismissal in his cold tone was clear as he spoke his words, waving away her away with the swipe of a hand.

Even after he had spoken to her, he couldn't shake the feeling that she wouldn't stop controlling his life or his kingdom.

* * *

**Ludlow Castle**

February 2, 1510

Catalina gazed reflectively out of her window, her mind deep in thought.

She had been at this place for nearly a month and was finally beginning to call it home. She didn't think it was possible for any place to surpass the beauty of Spain with its soaring cathedrals and perfect weather, or her paradise, the Alhambra, but she was finally beginning to love Ludlow, for all of its faults. It was small, dreary and boring, but here is where she fell in love with her husband, Arthur.

Oh at first, she didn't think it was possible! He was quiet in public but malicious in private, and shy in the bedroom; but soon she realized that he was scared, not mean. She was lucky to have such a husband, who loved her. It was an arranged marriage and was bonded by the contracts of two greedy kings, and it brought the union of two scared children two years apart in age, and with an heir expected to be produced within a year, it left little room for passion, until now. Arthur was kind and loving to her, always inquiring about her home country, her family, and what it was like on the battlefield for the first five years of her life. Catalina asked about any stories about his father or his mother, and he was always happy to tell them. Although Catalina enjoyed these late-night chats, they weren't her favorite time of the night.

It was when they began to discuss the future of England, the creation of another Camelot, it was when Arthur became animated and Catalina was able to exercise some influence. No longer were they two awkward children, bound together for an alliance, but they were young lovers and monarchs in training, discussing a confident future and a new inheritance for their children.

The only times Catalina became homesick is when she received letters from the King's mother or the Queen, but never from her own mother. She had written to her many times, but only received one reply, one that she stashed underneath her pillow for strength and comfort.

_To Princess Katherine of Wales_

_From her majesty Queen Isabella of Castalia and Aragon_

_Hello your highness. I hope everything is going well for you in England. Trust in the King's mother, she holds great power and she will guide in you the ways of England. Trust in your husband, for this marriage is one that GOD created. Finally, as always, trust in GOD. He will show you the path to His will; you just must follow as His obedient daughter. _

_I also write a message from his majesty, King Ferdinand, commanding you to never touch your dowry, and trust in the man who is guarding it. Soon it will all be extracted into King Henry's funds, so you must not disturb it or the men in charge. They carry out our instructions as well as the King of England's. _

_Be strong. _

There was no love, only a message from Princess to Queen, but at least it was handwritten as short as it was. Catalina, in her loneliest moments, read it over and scanned for any signs of love that she knew existed. The only line that brought a smile to her lips was the last two words: _be strong._

Her mother wanted her to be strong, so she would try.

It was often lonely at Ludlow, Catalina reflected. Margaret Beaufort ran everything, and so Catalina's daily routine was determined by her. After Arthur and her broke their fasts, which was usually in private since the King's mother had said anything regarding that, Arthur went to his own rooms to study with his tutors or practice sports if weather permitted, while Catalina was to practice her needlework or English, read, or walk in the gardens. After a light supper, the two could ride out together hunting or just riding, but Arthur often went by himself since the weather was so cold, so Catalina was obliged to spend more time alone with her ladies.

And then, once a week, Arthur and his grooms walked down to Catalina's room solemnly at ten and he was expected to leave at six. Margaret didn't want the two young people to wear themselves out but she wanted an heir.

At first, Catalina was grateful that it was only four times a month that they had to be together at night, but after she spent more time getting to know Arthur and growing to love him, she found the regulations tiresome. After a tour of Ludlow, though, her and Arthur and found the perfect solution.

There was a small stairwell that were close enough to Arthur's rooms that he could slip away quietly at night, and the stairwell led almost directly to her rooms. Every other night that they weren't "allowed" to spend time together, he slipped through these passageway and the two would talk for hours, and usually in English now that Catalina had all the free time in the world to perfect the language of her new country.

The days may have been lonely but the nights are what made her fall in love with Ludlow, with Wales, with England, and with Arthur.

She tore herself away from the window seat, getting bored of watching the snowflakes dance around. Arthur was with his tutors, so she decided to walk to the chapel for prayer, but one of her ladies came rushing in, their English rapid.

"My lady, the Prince is here to see you," one of her English ladies had announced, and Catalina had quite forgotten her name.

"Thank you, you may leave us," Catalina said in accented English, smiling at all of them while waving her hand. She didn't want them to be around when she saw her husband, she enjoyed some privacy.

"Catalina, I have alarming news," Arthur started without prologue, taking her hands in his and seating her down. Catalina's first thought was for her mother, who was not always healthy, but Arthur's next words calmed her a bit, but not a lot. "A case of sweating sickness has been reported not to far from here. Hopefully it won't spread, but just in case, it would best to lock yourself up in here and not receive anyone. I shall do the same. It means we cannot visit each other anymore," Arthur said sadly, his face unable to mask his displeasure, but his grandmother had commanded it as soon as she heard, sending the fastest messenger with the message for Arthur's chamberlain.

"I will. God bless you husband and may He protect you," Catalina replied piously, kissing Arthur before he murmured the same blessing, upset but scared. He hoped that the harsh English weather hadn't weakened her, because he didn't know what he would do if he lost her.

The next days were far more boring than the last month were for Catalina. She missed Arthur and his witty stories, jokes, and she missed planning with him. Her monthly courses came, meaning that she wasn't with child, and although she was sad, she was too preoccupied with thoughts of sickness and of Arthur.

One of her ladies left to go drop off her laundry one morning, although Catalina warned her not to. When she came back, her face was pale, but not from the sweat. "My lady, Prince Arthur has taken ill. They believe it is the sweat."

A scream threatened to rise from her throat, but she choked it down, along with her watery tears. "I must see him," Catalina announced, marching out of the room and ignoring all protests from her ladies. She couldn't allow him to die without seeing her one last time.

No! She retorted her own thoughts stubbornly. He was not going to die. He was young. They were in love. God won't be that cruel.

The King's physician had been dispatched as soon as King Henry heard his son was sick. Catalina wondered how long Arthur had been sick before she learned about it, and he may have died without her getting to say goodbye. The physician greeted her at his door, his face solemn looking with a tint of sadness.

"Your highness, it does not look good. The vital signs are weak. They have sent for a priest," the physician finished with some difficultly as he watched the hard face of the Princess crack.

"May I see him?" she asked weekly, frowning when he shook his head.

"No, your highness, I'm sorry but I cannot put you in danger. There is so little we know about this disease…" the physician started but he was cut off by Catalina.

"Sir, he is my husband, and as the Princess of Wales I command to see him!" Catalina commanded sharply, but not haughtily. She needed to see him, to say goodbye, regardless of the risk she was placing on herself.

"Do not go any farther than the foot of his bed," the physician requested, glad when she shook her head in compliance.

She frowned when she walked in the room, looking at the joyful boy she had whispered to in the dead of night so drawn out and pale. He looked as if he had aged to equal his father in only a few days. "Leave us," Arthur commanded weakly, smiling up at her.

"My love," she started when they had all left, moving to the edge of his bed, flaunting the physician's orders. She took his pale hand in hers and was dismayed at the weakness of his grip. She began to cry, not sobbing, but just allowing a few tears to fall. She couldn't believe she was going to lose him.

"Catalina, don't cry. Listen, don't give up. When I die, I will still continue to watch over you. Go back to Spain, go and be happy," Arthur commanded, smiling weakly at her.

"No, you aren't dying. This will pass, you just have a mild fever, nothing more," Catalina protested, refusing to believe someone as young and healthy as her husband could be snatched away from her.

Arthur shook his head, which started a round of coughs. "Leave before I get you sick. Just remember that I loved you so very deeply. Also, remember that I am sorry. When I die, you will be downgraded. Don't fight my family, they will eat you alive no matter how strong you try and be. God doesn't want us to rule, so he is taking me away from you. You are meant to live in Spain once more," Arthur commanded, not wanting her to cling to false hope. Harry would become King; Catalina would become the Dowager Princess and he only hoped his father would treat her kindly and allow her to return to Spain.

"Don't feel bad love. This is foolish talk. I love you and I will never feel resentful if you leave me prematurely, but don't worry, you won't. You will survive this, and we will rule England together. It is God's will," Catalina replied, moving out of the room as slowly as she could, savoring every inch of his face but steadfastly refusing to cry.

Only when she was in the privacy of her own rooms did she begin to cry fully, for fear of what she was going to lose.

* * *

**Richmond Palace**

February 10, 1510

Despite the fact that his physician wrote to him daily, telling him that Arthur's condition was no worse, but it was no better, Henry didn't think he would die.

Until he received the latest letter.

It was a letter from his physician, stating that Arthur had been given his last rites and that he didn't expect him to live through the night.

His mother told him to wait to tell his wife, for fear that the added stress would cause harm to the baby. Elizabeth had not seen Harry since that faithful day, and Henry knew that she missed him, but Margaret made sure that Henry was always kept busy with his lessons or visiting with her. She didn't dare reproach him, only asking once timidly if they could go and visit him.

He had more important things than to oversee his youngest son, which his mother was capable of handling. He and his wife were on good terms lately, as well as he and his mother, and he didn't want to risk it. He knew that the lack of time spent with her children caused Elizabeth pain, but Henry knew it was for the best. Margaret didn't dare slap Elizabeth again or even be rude to her and deferred to her with all respect owed to a Queen, but she still worked behind the scenes to keep her away from her children.

Henry knew it; he was just too tired to care. He wasn't feeling himself lately, always sick and he began to focus more and more on his work, making sure that his kingdom would be in good shape when he passed it on to Arthur.

Now that Arthur was sick, he felt even more ill himself.

As for telling Elizabeth, he knew that it may cause their child harm, but she had the right to know. After everything he put her through she deserved to know when her child was going to die.

He found her sewing another little garment for the upcoming child. She rose as soon as he entered, unannounced, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"You may leave us," he commanded quietly to her ladies. They all curtsied and slipped away quietly, leaving him alone with his wife. He wanted to tell her, but he couldn't wrap his mind around what was happening to put it into words.

"Henry what is it?" she asked, alarmed. She feared the worst, and only something terrible could put such a sad look on her husband's usual calm face.

"Arthur has fallen ill at Ludlow. My physician believes that he only has a few hours to live," Henry spat out with some difficulty, tears threatening to fall. He wasn't even going to say goodbye to his beloved son, the boy that he was so very proud of.

"Oh my God," Elizabeth muttered, falling automatically into Henry's arms, her tears freefalling.

Henry usually didn't know how to react to his wife's tears, but this time he completely understood. He rubbed her golden-red hair as her head rested on his shoulder, allowing her to cry until she dried up. It what was he wanted to do as well, but he had to be strong for England, and for Elizabeth. Her heart-wrenching sobs soon turned into quiet screams, muffled by his jacket.

"Shh, go and rest now. You will get overworked," Henry requested, calling for her ladies to come back in, supporting her she began to go limp. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth say something!" he commanded, alarmed when she fainted in his arms. "Ready her majesty for bed and tell me when she wakes up," Henry commanded one of her senior ladies with surprising calmness before stalking out of the room, going to find his other physician that was still at court.

He was numb when he realized that he may lose Arthur, Elizabeth, and their unborn child in the same day.

_Wow, kind of a sad chapter right before Christmas, but a cliffhanger as well! I will be sure to update soon, since I'm sure the suspense is killing you :p_

_Make sure to review, they make my day :) _


	5. Chapter Five

**Author's Note: **Welcome to chapter five of King Arthur II! I'm glad you all enjoyed the last chapter, and I hope all of you had a great Christmas (for those of you who celebrate it). A few quick notes: Wolsey's title is actually "Your Eminence" (thanks ReganX!). So I've edited Chapter Three and I will use it correctly in this chapter and from now on. Also, Mary and Margaret will be two separate characters in this story, instead of just one. So the Margaret Tudor I'm using in this chapter and from now on is the historically correct Margaret Tudor, with my own timeline of course. Margaret is going to 13 at the time of this chapter (1510) making her birth year 1497 opposed to 1489. She is going to be married in 1510 instead of 1503. I have not altered the age of James IV of Scotland, making him 37 in 1510. I have made up my own reasons for their marriage. I know, I'm terrible :p.

Disclaimer (I need to start putting this up here more!): Showtime and History own these characters. I just mess around with them :)

Please don't forget to review, and thanks to everyone who continues to review/favorite/alert. You are the best! Enjoy!

* * *

**Ludlow Castle**

February 11, 1510

Catalina refused to take any food or wine, despite her ladies constant urgings. She had been on her knees for the past day, refusing to peal her eyes away from the statues in the small chapel at Ludlow.

Her ladies had left at her request, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Every now and then they would come back, begging her to sleep for a little while and at least take some wine. She refused.

"Your highness, just a little wine would perhaps give you some comfort, if not nourishment. You need to drink something; you will die if you don't!" Maria insisted, holding a goblet of wine, and she frowned when her mistress didn't even acknowledge her arrival, let alone accept the wine. She continued her mutterings in Latin, and to Maria's dismay, she appeared as if she were in a trance, not knowing what to think of her surroundings.

It was hard for her, Maria reflected. She was so scared and alone in England for the first few months of her marriage because of Arthur's cruelty and the rest of the family's indifference, besides dear Queen Elizabeth. When she finally opened up to Arthur, and Maria knew about their secret meetings at night, she seemed to finally be happy, glowing in certain vitality only evident in those who were in love. Arthur's illness and almost eminent death must be heartbreaking for her, Maria thought, looking at her weakened mistress. It was only understandable that she would be so heartbroken over losing the only English friend she had.

Maria didn't dare tell her that last night Prince Arthur had given his last rites by a Welsh priest, because King Henry's physician was almost certain that he would not live through the night. It wouldn't Catalina any good to squash any remaining hope she had about his survival. Maria would allow her to hope until Arthur was actually dead.

"Your highness, your highness! Prince Arthur, he lives! He has even begun to stir out of his bed!" a man shouted, bursting into the chapel, and for the first time in a day Catalina turned away from the alter and started at the man, refusing to believe his words.

Alive? Stirring from his bed? Catalina could scarcely believe it. The boy she saw yesterday looked so weak, like an old man who had given up on life. Catalina fervently crossed herself, dropping to her knees in awe.

"Thank you God," she repeated several times in Latin before rising to greet the man who gave her the news, allowing him to lead her to Arthur's bedchamber, with Maria traveling in her wake.

"My love, oh you are alive, it is true," Catalina cried as soon as she entered the room, dropping to her knees, crying on his arm, keeping her grip tight.

"Yes sweetheart, I am alive, and you were right. It was God's will for us to rule together," Arthur crowed happily, trying to lift his head to kiss her but it felt like a ton of bricks, weighing down on him. He dropped down again, but still kept a smile on his face. "I'm still a little weak, as you can see."

"Oh its okay, I'm sure it will pass once the illness fully ceases, but you are alive and that's all the matters! Oh Arthur, I have never felt such joy in my whole entire life," Catalina devoutly proclaimed, causing Arthur to smile. "Has his majesty been informed of my lord's recovery?" she asked the physician, turning to face him for a brief moment, although it hurt to stop looking at him. It was truly a miracle, a sign that God favored them, and the love she felt towards Arthur at that moment was so great that it was with pain that she turned away from him.

"No, your highness, he has not been. If I may speak to you in private for a moment," the man asked in slow English, thinking the Princess did not quite understand yet. She nodded, following him outside of Arthur's chamber with some difficulty. "He is not yet fully recovered, and although this is a good sign, a sign that he will most likely survive, we cannot be too sure yet."

"Sire, he is awake though, and not drenched in sweat anymore. I thought that meant that he was recovered?" Catalina asked, some pain creeping into her voice. It would be so cruel of God to allow her to believe that he was to survive before snatching him away.

"Usually this is true, but sometimes it is not. As I said to your highness yesterday, so little is known about this disease. It would be very hard to ensure survival when he is still so weak," the physician explained, not wanting to give the Princess too much hope. Arthur was still very weak, and had trouble eating.

"Thank you," Catalina managed, allowing the physician to return to his job.

Losing him once was bad enough, but losing him twice made her feel like her world was ending.

* * *

**Richmond Palace**

She had lost the child.

She went into labor the night before, shortly after Henry had left her to go and fetch a physician. She woke up, racked with pains, blood seeping through her nightdress. She had never miscarried before, although she had went into premature labor with Arthur, she never could have imagined the pain to be so great.

It was a girl, one that would have been quite beautiful had she not suffered due to the stress that Elizabeth had been under lately.

Although her husband had told his mother that she was to treat Elizabeth more cordially and defer to her with all the respect that she deserved as Queen, he still allowed her to control all of her children's households, and although Harry was still at court, his lessons and her mother-in-law's "surprise" visits occupied most of his time, so she hadn't seen Harry since the day that she was slapped. Henry didn't feel like risking his mother's anger and he claimed that he was too busy to find time to accompany her to Harry or Margaret's apartments, let alone Eltham to see young Mary. Elizabeth didn't dare try and go see them without Henry ever again, so she was forced to be copped up in her apartments, trying to content herself with needlework or perhaps even a little bit of reading, although her education was lacking. Most of the time, she wrote letters to Arthur and Catalina, and was always glad to receive their replies.

She had hoped to visit Arthur and his wife at Ludlow very soon, something that her husband was bound to agree with, considering he would want to see how his Prince of Wales had set up his household, but now that was never going to happen. Arthur was dying, and was probably already dead. Elizabeth had always felt a strong connection to Arthur, and although he was more serious than Harry was, she loved him dearly, due to his status as her first-born. She was so proud of him the day of his wedding, and thought Catalina was very pleasing. She hoped that she would be able to keep them around a little longer to see how their marriage progressed, but she took pride in the fact that Arthur was going to Ludlow to set up his own life. It was hard to watch him grow up, but she took such great pride in him.

Now he was to be taken away from her before he even saw his sixteenth birthday. She had such high hopes for him when he was to become King and have children of his own, but now those seemed like dead dreams. These thoughts caused her great pain, and the stress of the last month took its toll, causing her to lose her baby.

Henry was kind enough, kissing her forehead and inquiring about her health. She could tell that he was hurt over the fact that Arthur was dying and that their child had died.

Later, she overheard him talking to the midwife who had delivered her baby and to the physician that had checked her for signs of complications after the baby had been born. He was scared about her health, asking if this would cause her any trouble getting pregnant in the future or if it would damage her in any other way.

She was furious! Already he was thinking about impregnating her again, causing her more pain then she had already been through! She understood that children were important to a royal dynasty, but she was sure as soon as she had been churched and given the okay by her physician to resume her connubial duties, he would try again to have another son.

Seven pregnancies, four living children, soon to be three.

Three sons, one dead, one soon to be dead. The healthy, robust one was proving to be too enthusiastic for her sour husband's liking.

Four daughters, two dead, two healthy as could be. One soon to be leaving her to go to Scotland and the other only two years old, and although she had recognized Elizabeth and called her mother, she hadn't visited her in nearly a month.

Elizabeth's previous success was looking bleak, and it was likely that Henry was going to try again.

"My Lady the King's Mother is here to see you, your majesty," someone announced to the grief-stricken Queen. Elizabeth tried to smile, but it fell flat on her face, knowing that it was Henry that allowed her entrance.

"Your majesty," Margaret started, making sure to curtsy and kiss Elizabeth's weakly outstretched hand. She looked pathetic, Margaret thought, looking at her face that matched the newly changed linens, bleached white.

"My lady, what can I help you with?" Elizabeth asked weakly, not in the mood for a visit from her hellish mother-in-law, not doubt the woman was angry about her miscarriage and wanted to chide her about her "failure."

"Harry has been restless all day, and his majesty thought it was a good idea for him to see you. Harry," Margaret called, grudgingly carrying out her orders from her son. Henry said it didn't need to be supervised just this once, so Margaret curtsied once again before excusing herself.

"Harry!" Elizabeth exclaimed, her previous sorrow forgotten at the sight of her beloved son, who was too excited to even bow properly, clumsily bowing before rushing over to her bed, jumping up on the spot she had saved for him.

"Mama! I was so worried when Thomas, I mean his eminence Cardinal Wolsey, told me that you were ill. He said that you would be okay, but I was still so worried about you! How come you haven't come to visit me?" Harry asked, slightly breathless. Thomas and he had resumed their lessons after his boring one-week shut away from court because of his stupid grandmother, and Thomas told him that he had a grasp of theology he hadn't seen in most grown men. Harry wanted to share his success with his mama, who would be so proud of him. Instead his grandmother came to see him all the time, harshly quizzing his Latin or his knowledge of Scriptures. He could never tell if she was pleased or disappointed with him, because her ugly face was always in a frown; she never smiled at him or praised him like his mama used to do.

Elizabeth paused, not sure if Henry would take it well if she told Harry about how Henry had pretty much blocked her, until this moment, from seeing her beloved children. He was still an innocent child and despite how she felt about his grandmother or his father, he should still love, or at least respect, both of them. "The King, your father, has been very busy lately, and he doesn't want me to see you unless he is with me. It's very complicated and you'll understand someday. However, your father keeps me updated about your lessons with his eminence, but do you enjoy them?" Elizabeth explained, and sweetened with a question. She hoped lead him on a tangent about his lessons, so he wouldn't ask her questions about why Henry was keeping her away from her children.

"Oh mama, Cardinal Wolsey is the best teacher ever! He teaches me all the best things about Scriptures, and he praises my Latin all the time! He says that I understand theology better then some of the bishops!" Harry exclaimed, jumping from excitement.

"You are a very good boy, and very clever too," Elizabeth praised, ruffling his dark hair.

Harry smiled, and then he frowned gravely. "I heard some men talking in the hallway on the way here with grandmother; they were saying something about Arthur. Then they bowed to me and called me 'your highness' and 'the Prince of Wales' but I told them that it was Arthur's title, and that I was the Duke of York. Why did they say that mama?" Harry asked innocently, although he could tell the question had made his mama very sad all the sudden.

"Arthur is sick Harry, very sick, and they don't know if he is going to make it. You must say a prayer for him today when you go to mass with your grandmother, okay? You are still the Duke of York sweetheart, don't worry, and Arthur is still the Prince of Wales. If Arthur dies, which you should gravely hope that he does not since he is your brother, you will become the Prince of Wales," Elizabeth explained gently with great sadness, hoping that Harry wouldn't get too excited about his brother's impending death.

Luckily for her, Harry had morality and looked sad when she told him that his older brother was fatally ill. "I'm sorry to hear that mama, I love Arthur very much. He was a fun playmate when we lived together," Harry replied sadly, upset over his brother's illness. Although if Arthur died he would become the Prince of Wales, which was much better then becoming a Duke, and it also met he would be King someday. He wished that he was born before Arthur but he didn't want him dead!

"Well, don't worry, Arthur is strong," Elizabeth replied, managing to smile at Harry for his sake, not wanting him to worry. She winced slightly as she shifted positions to make herself more comfortable, the miscarriage was far more painful then her usual childbirths and it hurt very much to move, despite the tonic the physician gave her to dull her pain.

"Mama, what is it?! Why are you hurt? Did grandmother hit you again?" Harry asked as soon as she winced, wrapping his arms around her neck and planting kisses on her check.

Elizabeth frowned. She foolishly hoped that Harry would have forgotten about that day, even though it was only a little over a month ago and Harry was proving to be very clever for a six year old. "No, Harry, grandmother and I haven't seen much of each other lately. She's been very nice to me lately, and you should be kind back to her and not be resentful towards her for what happened. She loves you very much," Elizabeth lied, smiling at Harry. Although she had been respectful towards Elizabeth lately, nobody could call her conduct kind. Elizabeth also believed it was highly unlikely that she loved Harry as a naturally grandmother. She loved him as a pawn and as her own male heir.

Harry took a moment to think it over, but was still confused. If his grandmother didn't hurt his mama, who did? "Did father hit you?" Harry asked, thinking it logical. He sure seemed mad at her the last time he saw them together, the same day that his grandmother hit his mother.

"No Harry, certainly not! The King is very kind to me," Elizabeth explained, horrified that he was thinking this way. Henry would be very mad if he heard his youngest son, and she was grateful that Henry had allowed Harry to be brought here as a comfort to her without chaperones.

"Then who hurt you mama?" Harry asked, his blue eyes giving away his confusion. If it wasn't his father or grandmother, who could it be?

"Nobody hurt me sweetheart. It was just that your baby sister came before her time, that's all," Elizabeth explained, trying to sound as cheerful as possible, even though saying the words out loud caused her heart to sink.

"Oh, she came?! Where is she?" Harry asked, looking around for his new baby sister. He loved Mary and was excited when he heard his parents were expecting another child, meaning he could be a big brother again! To his dismay, he couldn't find his new sister anywhere, and when he turned to ask it about it his mama, her eyes were watering.

"She's not here, Harry. She came before she was big enough to survive. I'm so sorry, I know how much you were looking forward to being a big brother again," Elizabeth said, trying to contain her tears in front of her little son. She knew how excited he was about the baby, when she came to visit him he would always put his hand on her still-flat belly, listening for the baby.

Before Harry could respond, Henry burst into her bedchamber, disregarding young Harry completely and focusing on his wife. His smile was larger than she had seen it in a while, and she found herself mirroring it, despite her pain. "Arthur lives! The physician's courier just came to me, fresh from Wales. The message was sent early today. He began to stir early this morning and the sweat had disappeared, although they weren't sure if this meant his survival. However, he has been doing well for the past two hours, he even was able to get out of bed and take some food! When the courier had left Ludlow, he was dining in private with his wife. He is still a bit weak but the physician is able to ensure his survival," Henry said rapidly and with a tone of joy that she hadn't heard in a while. Elizabeth then realized how late it really was. The messenger most had ridden fast, Elizabeth thought. Her pains started painfully early in the morning, the baby was born dead by nine. Harry visited at five. She was exhausted beyond belief, as relief rushed through her body.

"Praise be to God," Elizabeth said devoutly, allowing Henry to kiss her quickly before ushering himself out of the room, ruffling Harry's hair on the way out.

Harry smiled widely. He would, when he was older, realize that it may have been better if Arthur had died, but for now, he was just pleased that his mama didn't have to suffer anymore.

* * *

February 29, 1510

Margaret Tudor would never be called her mother's daughter. She was quick to anger and defiant in every way, earning her harsh spankings by her nurse as a child, and later her governess. She lacked the calmness and obedience that her mother had.

She had outright refused to go to Scotland to marry the lecherous King James IV when her governess had first told her that she was going to. They were betrothed when she was only ten years old. Now she was thirteen and had a bit of a sensible grasp on it, even though she was far from happy about it.

The portrait she had seen already revealed a handsome enough man, although Margaret couldn't help it, an old man, old enough to be her father. He was the King of Scotland though, which meant that her marriage would win her a crown. A crown would make her the Queen of Scotland and she would have many pretty jewels and gowns.

There were two grievances that Margaret had about this match. Firstly, he was a great deal older than her, 37 to her 13. He had never been married, content with passing on his throne to a nephew or some such relative and just having mistresses. It was only when his border was threatened by English lords did he agree to marry the King of England's oldest daughter. He wanted a peaceful country to pass on and perhaps even an heir out of his young and healthy bride.

Secondly, she was taught that Scotland was England's most ancient enemy. She wasn't very comfortable being passed into the country that hated the English.

However, she was finally realizing she had no choice. She was scared of her father, and although he was always kind enough to her, though no one could call him loving, he would expect her to be compliant with his wishes. She also feared her strict grandmother, the woman who had slapped her mother, so Harry had told her privately one day. If her grandmother had no trouble hitting an anointed King of England, what would stop her from hitting her, a Princess of England?

Her whole family seemed to be on edge lately. Harry didn't want to enter the church, although he enjoyed spending time with his tutor, he wanted a pretty wife just like Arthur. Arthur had been sick for nearly a week, and nobody thought he was going to live. She was fond of her brothers, and was glad that Arthur was alive, but she feared for his future health. His father wanted an heir out of him, but Margaret didn't think he was going to recover enough to have one, since his physician sent daily reports to her father, calling him thriving but still weaker than he once was. Her grandmother and her mother had been arguing silently since the beginning of the year, her grandmother even going as far as to slap her mother, who had never been anything but compliant. All her mother wanted to do was to see her and her sibling's more, and Margaret didn't see the harm in it. Her father had risen to his mother's defense, but not enough.

She used to enough frequent visits from both of her parents, but now the only people who came to visit her were her sour grandmother, who always quizzed her about what her tutor had taught her that day; her tutors of course; and sometimes Harry who was also lonely.

She almost felt a relief to get out of there. Expect for one thing, she was going to miss England, her mother, and her siblings very much. She had never been out of the country before, but she was grateful Scotland was close, unlike Catalina's native Spain. She doubted her husband would ever give her leave to visit though.

Her grandmother had already given her a goodbye, harshly telling her to obey her husband in all things. Her father had come by earlier, on his way to Ludlow unaccompanied, telling her that he would miss her and to write often. He told her where her carriage was located and how long the trip would be and how many attendants she was allowed to take. It was always business with her father.

She walked solemnly to her mother's apartments, already dressed in her traveling clothes.

"Your majesty, Princess Margaret is here to see you," one of her mother's ladies announced, leading her into her mother's bedchamber. Elizabeth was yet to be churched after suffering her miscarriage, but because Margaret was family she was allowed to visit her. She walked to her mother's bedside, tempted to throw her arms around her. Instead, she offered her a smile.

"Hello my darling. Have you come to say goodbye?" Elizabeth asked sadly, looking down at her oldest daughter. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, Elizabeth reflected. She had raven hair and a voluptuous build, one that would make her future husband happy. Elizabeth was sorry to see her go at such a young age, but she knew it was necessary for peace between Scotland and England.

"Yes mother. I am leaving very soon. I love you and I'll miss you," Margaret replied, hugging her mother who was propped up in bed.

"I love you too. Be a good girl, and don't be too fiery, although I should think the Scots would like that," Elizabeth joked, willing herself not to cry.

"I hope they welcome me mother, as we welcomed Catalina," Margaret replied, smiling a little bit. The English had welcomed Catalina as their own daughter, always cheering her name when she went out in public.

"I'm sure they will dearest. They are just as happy to see peace as we are, " Elizabeth soothed, although she wasn't so sure of her own words. She knew nothing of politics, her husband didn't keep her informed, thinking it wasn't her right to know. She could only hope that Scotland would be grateful for the respite from the constant wars between the northern English lords and their border towns.

Margaret smiled once again, although it was full of her sadness. After promising her mother that she would write often, she excused herself, leaving her poor mother to rest.

Her last stop was Harry's rooms. Today he didn't have any lessons and Margaret hoped to stop and chat with him for a little bit, although she was sure her governess would chide her for it, claiming that they had a long journey to make. She was happy that her governess would be forced back to England after she established her own household in Scotland. She was old enough to become the Queen of Scotland, she was happy that she wouldn't need a governess anymore.

"Harry!" Margaret exclaimed, running into her brother's rooms alone. Although her tutors and governess had told her it was most unseemly for a Princess to run, let alone a future Queen, she couldn't help it. Although her and Harry argued all the time, she would miss him the most out of anybody else in England.

"Margaret!" Harry shouted back, outstretching his arms for Margaret to hug. Harry was a tall child, taller than most seven year olds. Margaret was already shorter than him.

"I'm leaving Harry, probably for good," Margaret started gravely after the two had hugged and kissed their greetings.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked with a frown. Margaret was the best playmate and the only sibling that he had left at court. Arthur was at Ludlow and Mary was at Eltham, and now Margaret was going to Scotland.

"To Scotland. I am to marry the King of Scots, James IV," Margaret explained, surprised that nobody had told Harry. She was sure they had, he probably just forgot.

"Oh yeah, I remember now! I thought that wasn't for a long time though," Harry replied, remembering Thomas' lesson one day when he had talked about Margaret's part in the Scottish alliance, but that day it was about politics. Thomas had told him that once a week they would learn about the politic of Europe, despite the fact that he was a second son. Thomas said the never knew what could happen in the future and if Harry ever had to become King, he needed to know more than just theology.

"Well I'm thirteen now, so I have to leave. Father said I should have left a year ago, but the Scots were re-opening negations," Margaret explained, remembering one day about a year ago where her grandmother had come storming into her apartments, raging about the delay.

"Oh. Well I'll miss you sissy," Harry replied sadly, hugging Margaret tightly and using his nickname for her, the one that he used a lot around Mary since she was still really little.

"I'll miss you too Harry. But don't worry, I'll write often," Margaret promised, hugging Harry and resiliently leaving his apartments.

Her household had started off to Scotland around noon, after she was given a light supper. She held her small puppy in her lap, a wedding gift from her mother, and stared out the window.

In two days, she would be across the border, far away from everything she had ever known.

_Sorry that's shorter than most of the chapters, but I didn't think anything else would fit into this chapter. Next chapter we'll see the long lasting effects of the sweat on Arthur and how Catalina handles it. Margaret will get settled in Scotland and Henry VII will think of marriages for little Mary. Harry will get a new playmate as well. _

_For those of you who are anxious to see Anne Boleyn, she will be coming into play, along with the rest of her family, I promise! It just might take a while. _

_I love reviews! Thanks for reading :) _


	6. Chapter Six

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter and everyone who read it. The support means a lot, so thanks guys :D

One quick historical note: Charles Brandon is going to be eight at this time, to Harry/Henry's almost seven (he's still six at this point). He was much older in history, but this goes more with the show's canon. I've screwed around with Charles Brandon's family history to make this possible.

Enjoy!

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**Holyrood Palace**

**Southeastern Scotland**

March 3, 1510

Margaret had been in Scotland for only a few hours when already her maids dressed her in her finest gown and she received a message that she was to meet her future husband as soon as she was dressed and ready. Margaret had never been so nervous in her short life.

The castle that she was staying at, which she learned was called Holyrood Palace, was where James usually spent his time. Her tutor had taught her that there were a few other palaces that he sometimes stayed at during royal progresses, but the names slipped her mind when the nerves took over. It was drafty, but not nearly as miserable as Richmond or even Eltham, where her father always rationed everything, including firewood.

When she entered his throne room, her first thought was how young he looked, even though he was only a bit younger than her own father. James had a reputation as somewhat of a womanizer, indeed Arthur had once told her that he had seven illegitimate children with four different women. If she wanted a faithful husband, she wasn't going to find one in this man. The only thing Margaret could be grateful for was that the constant courting of various women kept him young, making her situation a bit more pleasant.

"Your majesty," Margaret said in her most confident voice, showing him her graceful curtsy that she had practiced her whole life.

James stepped off his throne, studying his bride. She was older looking than her thirteen years and had an air of youthful graciousness and regality. Her face, however mature looking it was, still revealed the youthfulness of a child. Her raven hair was neatly pinned back into a French headdress and her deep purple gown was of the French cut. She was every inch a princess, a truly royal bride.

"You are most welcome in Scotland, most welcome my Princess," James replied in the kindest voice he had, knowing that she had to be scared.

"Thank you my lord," Margaret replied, allowing him to lift her out of her curtsy with his ringed fingers.

"As somebody showed you your rooms, my Queen?" James asked, smiling down at her.

Although the men who greeted her showed her the official rooms of the Queen of Scots and every part of the palace she needed to know, she couldn't resist this offer to get to know her new husband. "No, they haven't. Would you be so kind to show me?" she asked in an innocent voice. James nodded, eager to show his new wife around.

Scotland was nothing like England, but that wasn't a bad thing for Margaret Tudor.

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**Richmond Palace**

March 11, 1510

"Margaret writes to you, telling you that the Scottish have welcomed her warmly and that King James is a pleasing husband. They were married a few days ago at Holyrood Palace," Margaret Beaufort briefed to her son, noticing that he was distracted.

"Very good. I'm glad they weren't cruel to her," Henry muttered, continuing to stare out his window.

"Henry, what is it?" Margaret asked, hoping that he still loved her enough to confide in her. God knew that their relationship had been stressed since she had slapped his wife, but yet he still trusted her enough to take her advice and allow her to exercise a great deal of control over the affairs of state, almost more so than before she had fought with Elizabeth. The only thing that changed was her influence over the Queen herself, but she certainly had done her job keeping Elizabeth away from their precious heirs. Margaret made sure to visit Harry at least once a day, when he wasn't with his tutors or playing some sort of game, which she discouraged. It left little time for his parents to visit him. Also, Elizabeth didn't dare try to visit Harry or Mary without Henry present, and Henry had been wrapped up with worry about Arthur's illness and working on the marriage contract between Margaret and James.

"When I went to visit Arthur, he wasn't himself. He was up and moving around, and greeted me with his usual attitude, but he was weaker, and took rest more often. His wife told me that he hadn't gone out riding since he got over the illness and he often looks pale, and eats little at meals," Henry explained, worry etched all over his face. Arthur's birth was a month earlier than expected, but up until now it had never shown. He was always healthy, and although he wasn't very good at sports or dancing, he never had a problem with physicality of them. Catalina had told him, in English which pleased him greatly, that he hadn't ridden out or played any kind of sport with his friends in Wales since he got sick.

"The Spaniard is probably lying. Besides, he just got over the illness, what, not even a month ago? Didn't your physician say it was normal for the healing to take this long?" Margaret asked, not unduly concerned about it. Her spies told her that he continued to see his wife once a week and still had a sharp mental mind, despite his physical weakness.

"Yes, perhaps a week or two after the illness passes it's normal, but not a month. All of my physicians agree, it's not normal for him to continue to be weak this long. They believe there is permit damage," Henry replied.

"Is there any signs of pregnancy?" Margaret asked, knowing how badly the potency of this new couple needed to be confirmed. Though she dreaded the day her beloved son was going to die, she couldn't help but notice how weak he looked and often he coughed. The last thing England needed was more wars over succession, so the future Queen of England needed to be fertile or else set aside. If Arthur was as weak as Henry was saying, then it certainly wouldn't help matters.

"No," Henry answered shortly, more worried about his son's health than the lack of heir. They had only been married for a few months, and this sickness certainly didn't help matters. Maybe under different circumstances he would have shared his mother's worry, but not with so much happening.

"Perhaps the girl is the problem, not Arthur," Margaret voiced, happy to speak against Catalina of Aragon. She didn't like the girl, finding her to be too Spanish and prideful, unworthy of her position as Princess of Wales. She understood the importance of the alliance with Spain, but Isabella and Ferdinand could certainly afford to be humbled with an infertile daughter. Who could fault them for setting aside a barren girl?

"I highly doubt it. She's healthy, Arthur isn't anymore," Henry admitted bitterly. He was so proud of his lusty and healthy sons, and it pained him that Arthur wasn't anymore.

Margaret nodded, not saying anything. She was beginning to judge when she could successfully influence him, and the day wasn't one of those days. He was too worried about Arthur to care about her dislike for Catalina.

"I will visit Harry today and take the Queen with me. I have a boy I want him to meet, who will be a schoolroom companion to him," Henry announced after a few moments of silence, looking at his mother's face for a reaction. He knew that she hated all thoughts of play, and thoughts of Elizabeth visiting any of her children. He was pleasantly surprised when she kept her face in a schooled calmness, glad that she had come to her senses.

"Who is the boy?" Margaret asked, keeping her disappointed masterfully hidden. She hated the idea of Harry having friends his own age, which would keep him away from his lessons. Elizabeth wasn't so much of a problem anymore, since she hardly saw any of her children anymore and didn't dare to alone. Margaret didn't regret slapping her and teaching her a lesson.

"Charles Brandon, son of the late Sir William Brandon, my old standard bearer. Sir William was injured during Bosworth by Richard himself. He died of his injuries after long years of pain and struggle, leaving behind a pregnant wife. Poor Charles never even got to meet his father. You know me; I don't like to punish those who service me well," Henry explained wryly, allowing traces of sympathy into his voice. Sir William was a loyal friend to him, and he was sorry to see him die after so many long years of holding out despite his great pain, and even sorrier for his widow. He gave her a pension to support her and her son, despite his greedy nature, and promised that young Charles would be a companion to his future son, whom Elizabeth was not even pregnant with yet at the time. He was not one to take back his promises.

"Well, let us hope the boy is clever, because he is going to be getting a royal education. I would hate to see it go to waste," Margaret replied, allowing some traces of her disappointment to fade into her voice. He doubted a boy like that would even be able to amount to the cleverness in her grandson. She could only hope it wouldn't halt Harry's progress.

"Charles and his mother are also going to be given a suite of apartments here at court, near Harry's. Make the necessary enragements," Henry commanded his mother, waving his hand to dismiss her, not missing her scowl when he did so.

Henry sent a message to the Queen as soon as she took her leave, commanding her to come to his rooms so they could visit their son. He could only imagine the wide smile on her face, and was glad that he was finally brave enough to put it there.

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Charles Brandon had never been to court before, but he already knew his way around due to his mother's detailed instructions. She wasn't coming with him, not just yet, but she promised that she would follow. It was the first time he was going to be separated from his mother for over a day, but that didn't bother Charles as much as he thought it would. He was a big boy, eight years old now, and he didn't need his mama around, although he was going to miss her.

He couldn't help but be excited when his mama told him that he was going to share the same tutors as Prince Harry, the Duke of York, and a King's son! Although he wished he could have met his father, he was grateful for the sacrifice he made so his family could earn the loyalty of the Tudor family. He heard that young Harry was a lot of fun and a pleasant boy, the apple of his mother's eye.

King Henry had personally greeted him as soon as he arrived, showing him the temporary apartments he and his mother would be housed at, as well as his household and his mother's. He sent for a groom to bring all of his bags up. He said that after he and the Queen had visited Harry, he would send a message telling him to come to Harry's rooms. He told Charles that he was most welcome at Richmond and to ask a page if he needed any help finding Harry's rooms.

A page came up shortly after Charles had been settled in his rooms with a message requesting, not commanding, that Charles to come to Harry's rooms so they could have their lessons for that day. Charles knew that he was very fortunate to be in this high of favor at his young age, so he happily agreed to the request, making his way down to Harry's rooms without needing help and without a company of servants. Many courtiers eyed him curiously, as an unattended young boy wandering the halls of the grand palace, but Charles was all smiles and untroubled by their stares as he made his way to Harry's room.

A groom in Tudor livery answered his knock, and after Charles stated his name, opened the door to allow him entry. Charles was surprised at the lack of richness in Harry's dress and of his room, but tried really hard to conceal it. Luckily, Harry didn't notice, walking up to Charles with a kind expression on his face.

"Your grace," Charles bowed, not forgetting that he was in the presence of royalty, despite how Spartan the rooms were for a Prince.

"You must be Charles Brandon. Don't call me 'your grace', that's so stuffy. I like being called Harry best," Harry boisterously replied, helping Charles up from his deep bow.

"Okay Harry. Where's our tutor?" Charles asked, glancing around the small outer chamber of Harry's room, searching for any semblance of a tutor.

"Cardinal Wolsey is waiting for us outside. He just likes to be called plain Thomas," Harry said, walking towards his door and motioning for Charles to follow him. Harry had decided that he wanted his lessons to be outside until it got cold again. It was too nice outside for him to sit inside, and since his father didn't even give him a pony yet or give him a riding instructor to teach him how to ride, and Arthur refused to teach him how to play at archery, Harry was confined indoors most of the time. He was eager to spend more time outside, and thought it best to have his lessons out there.

"I like it outside the best, I was worried we would have to spend too much time indoors," Charles voiced, relieved that Harry was outdoorsy like him. His mother encouraged him to go outside often, and since he didn't have any lessons yet because his mama couldn't afford tutors despite her royal pension, he often rode on the horse his father willed to him, even though the horse was getting old.

"I'm glad to hear it, Charles. How come I've never seen you at court? My father didn't tell me much about you, just that your father was friends with him," Harry explained as the two made it over to courtyard, where servants had set up a table and chairs. Wolsey was already waiting for them, but his kind smile revealed that he wasn't impatient.

"I don't know, mama and I always lived together out in the country, and lived off of money that your royal father gives us every year. We were never," Charles paused, searching for the right word, "we were never summoned to court."

"That sounds nice, living together with your mama. Mine visited me today, although I don't see her much anymore," Harry replied sadly, his blue eyes revealing disappointment that his mother didn't come to visit him as often as she once did. He was sure he wasn't on purpose, because his mother seemed so pleased to see him earlier that day. He was almost positive that it was his stupid grandmother's fault, since she always took up his precious time that he wasn't at his lessons.

"How come?!" Charles asked, indignant at the thought of hardly seeing one's mother.

"Because My Lady the King's Mother slapped her one day, and my father got really mad at mama for it, so now she doesn't visit me because she's scared that my father and my grandmother are going to get mad at her," Harry explained, his face turning from sadness to anger.

"That's stupid! My Lady the King's Mother should have gotten in trouble for hitting the Queen. Mama says that hitting your king or queen is treason, the worst crime of all," Charles gravely replied, awed at the thought that someone was able to get away with that. His mama was always really strict when it came to talking badly about the royal family, and always commanded their small household never to speak badly about them either. Charles never had reason to.

"Treason, Thomas told me that my father killed a lot of people for that a long time ago when he first came on the throne. Thomas told me that they were traitors to England and to their King. My Lady the King's Mother loves my father more than anybody else, so that would be odd that she would do something like that," Harry assessed, moving slower as the two were engrossed deeper into conversation.

"Well I don't know than. Guess she just got mad," Charles replied plainly, sure that it was the case. He had never met the King's mother, and from the sounds of it, he never wanted to.

"She's always mad, or sour. She's no fun," Harry pulled a sour face as he said that; causing Charles to laugh which Harry found himself mirroring.

"You're funny Harry," Charles said, sitting down on one of the chairs that were set out for the two boys and their tutor. Wolsey greeted the boys kindly, handing them some paper if they wanted to take notes. Harry eagerly grabbed while Charles was more apprehensive, something that didn't go unnoticed by Harry.

"You are too, Charles. Come on, don't be scared, I promise Thomas' lessons are FUN" Harry stressed, good naturedly ribbing Charles, handing him the paper, which Charles accepted.

Harry was overjoyed when he realized that he had a friend in the absence of his beloved siblings.

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**Ludlow Castle**

March 20, 1510

He was pale and weak, and that worried Catalina more than anything else in the world. The physician had assured her that he would be able to return to normal routines, but after Arthur met with the Welsh petitioners after breakfast, he came back to her rooms for solace and she always noticed how drawn out he looked. He didn't ride out like he used to, or make love to her every night like he used to before he got sick, although he did still visit.

So she began to go and meet with the petitioners every morning and she always talked in the most confident voice she could find, like she was born to be the Princess of Wales, despite her Spanish heritage. She made excuses for Arthur everyday and sometimes even sat in Privy Council meetings for him. She hardly ever worked with a needle anymore or even thought about her native Spain.

She had finally become the Princess her mother had taught her to be, humble in the wake of her husband, but just as politically savvy.

She didn't mind stepping in for Arthur, and Arthur didn't even know about it, until today. She used to just slip away in the mornings, allowing him to sleep later, and when he woke up he always thought that he had no audiences that day or no meetings.

He was mad, she could tell.

"Catalina, why would you do that? You make me look like a fool!" he exclaimed, trying to sound as angry as he could to mirror how he felt inside. He was proud of his wife for becoming a true Englishwoman at least, but he knew that it was his job to do the things that she was doing for him.

"You are always so weak Arthur; you don't need to strain yourself doing things that I can take care of for you. I love you and I don't want you to get sick again by overworking yourself. The physician said to rest, so you should listen," Catalina mildly chided, hoping that he would be pleased with her. After their early fights she would have thought that he would be happy that she was trying to please him.

"Catalina, I appreciate it, I really do, but do you not know that my grandmother has spies everywhere? She is going to be furious when she finds out that you are taking over my duties," Arthur explained, trying a different approach. He knew that Catalina, despite her pride, feared his grandmother.

"I don't care about her or what she thinks. You are my husband; my duty rests in pleasing you, not her. Please don't be angry at me, I was only doing what I thought was best," Catalina pleaded, hoping to continue what she was doing. She would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the influence it brought.

"Oh Catalina, I'm not that angry, I just want to be able to be a husband to you in every way, and that means taking care of the affairs of state. I may not be as physically strong as I once was, but I am still the Prince of Wales and I still exceed in political matters," Arthur explained, opening his arms for her to fall into.

"You are still a man in every sense of the word, but you are going to wear yourself out if you continue to try and prove yourself to me and to this country. Take care of yourself, and let me handle some of the bulk work," Catalina offered, not wanting him to over-exert himself. She wasn't going to lose him after what she went through in February.

"What do you want to do?" Arthur asked, releasing her from his grip and sitting on a chair which Catalina mirrored, sitting opposite him.

"I want to accompany you to meetings, help you. Also, some mornings I could see the Welshmen seeking your influence, as I have been doing. They are a rowdy bunch, but most of them speak English so I'm not having too much trouble with it," Catalina requested, smiling sweetly at him.

Arthur smiled and nodded, happy to allow her to take some of the reins, at least until he got some of his former strength back, as the physician assured him.

The next morning, he kept his word. After breakfasting with his wife, they went out to Arthur's small throne room and she was seated next to him on a throne of her own. After a light lunch, the two went to his Privy Council meeting.

"Your highnesses, it is so good to see you both in attendance. Prince Arthur, your wife certainly does know how to run a meeting when you were taken ill," the president complimented, smiling at the young couple.

Catalina may have only been a woman and his wife, but she really did understand the affairs of state. He could only be too grateful that she was by his side.

All they needed now was a son.

_So sorry about the shortness of this chapter, I just wanted to get an update up for you guys! Next one will be longer, I promise! As for those of you who were looking forward to bitty Anne, you may just get your wish. For now, please review, you guys are amazing! _

_Till next time :)_


	7. Chapter Seven

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! No big historical changes here, expect in the Boleyn front. Anne Boleyn is going to be born in 1506 (not a big deal since nobody really knows when she was born), making her about three and half at the time of this chapter (assuming her birthday is in September, I've yet to pick the date). Thomas Boleyn is going to be an ambassador for King Henry VII in this story, going to the Netherlands (or the low countries), instead of King Henry VIII who may or may not exist in this story ;]

Huge thanks to ReganX, who has inspired pretty much everything that is going to happen in this chapter. She's amazing :D

Thanks for reviewing in advance and welcome to all new reviewers and those who have recently alerted or favorited the story.

Have a great New Year and Enjoy!

* * *

**Richmond Palace**

March 30, 1510

"You are not going to believe this!" Margaret Beaufort's face was twisted into an ugly grimace and her voice shrill and high-pitched as she spoke to her son. The reports she had received from her spies in Wales were not ones that she was inclined to believe at first, having to re-read them numerous times before she could believe what was written on the parchment in front of her. Her face was grim when she slapped them down on Henry's desk after marching into his study without prologue or announcement.

"What is it now?" Henry asked, only listening with one ear and not even half of his concentration, not even bothering to look at the neatly written message in front of him. He was in the middle of checking the court's expenses for the month, frowning periodically, but overall he was pleased. He liked the check the records himself, to make sure there was no evidence of foul play among his councilors.

Margaret was annoyed with his lack of attention, so she harshly snapped in his face, causing him to look up with a thin frown on his face. "The stupid insolent Spanish girl has taken control while Arthur continues to be weakened. She goes to his meetings, meets with his advisors, and even receives Welshmen with or without him present!" Margaret exclaimed, her displeasure plain. She or Henry had not given Catalina permission to meddle in the affairs of Wales, the country Arthur was to rule, not her. She had not yet proved herself worthy of bearing the title Princess of Wales because no royal heir was in the nursery yet, and she doubted that their attempts were sincere. They were too busy playing at government, most likely her idea. Margaret knew that Arthur was too weak to say no to somebody he loved, and she had received reports from the English ladies of Catalina's household that she paid to spy for her that Catalina was coaxing to Arthur, and that she had convinced him to meet with her nightly through a passageway hidden to the rest of the castle. Margaret doubted that they were engaging in intimate activity every night, she could imagine them dreaming of their England. Not as long as she breathed would Catalina of Spain be in charge of her country and dynasty!

Henry was clearly indignant at the thought too, his face enveloping into a frown. "Send for the Prince and Princess of Wales to be escorted here and to have rooms readied for them. They are to take separate carriages and in the meantime, the Princess is to be shut away in her rooms at Ludlow until the escort comes for her. She had best think twice if she wishes to handle the government. She is a foreigner, nothing more, and bears the title Princess of Wales because I choose it for her! God forbid she proves unworthy of that title," Henry suggested darkly, alluding the lack of heir. Henry entrusted his mother to do his bidding and debated what to do about the situation personally. While it was tempting to let his mother handle it fully, he knew he had to at least say something to Arthur, who was his son and heir. Henry knew first hand how coaxing the Spanish could be, having personally dealt in negotiations with them, but he stood strong against them and against his own wife as well, Arthur needed to learn the art of manhood because it was apparent to Henry that he didn't understand it.

"Sensible. Shall Arthur be allowed to ride on horseback?" Margaret asked, thinking it wiser. It would be cheaper for Arthur, not having to send a royal carriage all the way to Wales and just allowing him to ride without his wife, who would be forced to take a litter or a carriage, in case she really was with child.

"No," Henry said abruptly, "if my son wishes to act like a child, he shall not be treated as an adult, which means he will take a royal carriage with an escort, separate from his wife's, since he cannot be trusted not to fall from his horse or to ignore the pretty little Spanish things she whispers in his ear at night or during the day even! Speaking of which, Harry turns seven in about a month, does he not? Commission a starter pony or horse to be given to him, as well as a falcon. He should be set in terms of his brother now, who has yet to provide us with insurance of a future line of Tudor monarchs. Besides, Harry is a healthy child, who should be allowed outside more often, not just for lessons. At least I have one healthy son," Henry replied sharply, his grey eyes darkening slightly. Harry was a smart child, not as politically shrewd as Arthur or as mentally sharp, but he was clever enough, and God forbid he ever became cleverer than Arthur, which would be a grave disappointment to Henry by all accounts. Arthur was proving to be meek though, and Henry couldn't imagine his younger son being anything but strong and able. He needed to channel his boyhood health while he still could, Henry figured, so he would give him a pony, a falcon, and perhaps a bow and arrow, and perhaps give him a tutor in the art of sports. He would be entering the church, so in any case he best enjoy his youth while he could.

"I suppose you are right, about Arthur. As for Harry, perhaps that wouldn't be wise. He is destined to be the Archbishop of Canterbury, not a champion of the jousts. It would distract him from what is really important," Margaret reasoned, frowning at her son's proclamation. She wanted Harry to be more pious, but instead he seemed more interested in spending more time with the Cardinal and with his new friend, Charles Brandon. A pony, falcon, and any other play thing would cause him to divert even more, which would have terrible consequences.

"Oh mother, he is just a boy. I understand your concern, but it's best to channel the energy out now. I never had time in my youth for such things," Henry finished, giving a wryly smile to his mother. Henry Tudor, before he had become King Henry VII, was sent into exile as a young boy and feared for his life. By the time his life had steadied, he was already 28, and had to settle down to secure his country and give England heirs. He had no time for play, and figured Harry wouldn't either before too long, if Arthur presented him with a grandson soon, he would send Harry into the church as soon as he reached a suitable age, or would make arrangements for Arthur to see to it if he didn't live long enough for Harry to come of age. He was certainly feeling weaker and coughed more frequently, and although he did not fear death, he feared what would happen to England without him ruling, and if Arthur would prove to up to the task.

Margaret nodded, not feeling like arguing with him. He had clearly made up his mind. She scanned her brain for more information, knowing that she had something else to say. "Oh, Henry, before I forget, I have commissioned Sir Thomas Boleyn to be your ambassador to the Netherlands, more specially the Archduchess Margaret, sister to Maximilian, the Holy Roman Emperor. I hope that's okay, I have heard great things about him, and he receives great praise from the Duke of Norfolk, his brother-in-law, calling him a skilled diplomat," Margaret finished, presenting his credentials that she had received from Norfolk to her son.

Henry scanned them over briefly, trusting his mother on this decision. She had a skilled knowledge of foreign policy for a woman, and in any case it was best that England had representation in the expanding Low Countries, and it was on his list of things to do to appoint someone to the long vacated post. He was grateful his mother did it for him. "Thank you mother," he said, kissing her shortly on the check. "I'm sure Sir Thomas is a fine diplomat. Have him and his family brought to court so he can take his formal leave of me, and so I can meet this man myself," Henry commanding, curtly waving her away with his hand, indicating that she should begin on the many tasks that he had just assigned.

He was grateful to his mother above all people, despite how positively irritating she really was.

* * *

Catalina didn't expect to be back at Richmond so soon, and was sorry she was. At Richmond she was simply the new daughter of England, instead of the skilled Princess she was at Ludlow. Of course, the commoners received her warmly, but the reception was less than warm when it came to the royal family.

Margaret Beaufort's courier had relayed a message to the chamberlain of Ludlow, commanding that she be locked in her rooms until further notice. No reason was given to her, and her ladies were allowed to leave freely, just she was confined, so surely it wasn't illness again. Later that evening, dinner was brought to her and she was not allowed to eat with anyone save her ladies, not even Arthur. The stairwell, which she intended on escaping to, was blocked by sentries. When she requested that she may go to the chapel for evening Mass, she was refused, instead given a Bible and rosary so she may pray on her own.

When her escort came to Ludlow, asking her politely to come down the courtyard where she would be taken back to Richmond, she requested to be taken in a carriage with Arthur, since she had not seen him in days, but she was refused. She was taken back to Richmond and bundled up into an ignoble set of apartments, not like the ones at Ludlow or even like the first quarters she was given at Richmond, before she was even married and sent to Ludlow. They were hardly even fit for a mere maid, let alone a Princess of royal blood, and although she wouldn't dare say it, more royal than the King himself.

Clearly she had done something wrong, but she couldn't fathom what. She had been an obedient wife to Arthur and even nursed him back to decent health. Clearly, the dragon lady, as was Margaret Beaufort's nickname given generously by Arthur, was displeased with her, as the King was with Arthur.

Maria de Salinas stayed to attend her while she dismissed the others, telling them to wander about Richmond if they pleased and perhaps reunite with their family. She had assumed it would be a short stay, with the kind of quarters she was given. She didn't want to be wrong.

"My lady, a message, from My Lady the King's Mother," Maria announced, handing Catalina a letter with the royal seal. The nerve of that woman! Using the seal reserved for the King only, Catalina thought, and her nerves were even more inflamed when she read the contents of the message.

"She commands that I report to her chambers as soon as I have changed from my riding habit, and that I come alone," Catalina told Maria as angry built up inside her. How dare her, an upstart with bastardized royal blood, demand the Infanta of Spain, daughter of the two greatest monarchs in Europe, nay, the world, to come to her rooms as if she was some kitchen maid. Margaret was madder than she originally thought if she thought Catalina would agree to that!

Maria could tell that Catalina wanted to refused, to send her to the lady's apartments with an angry message, but Maria was quick to soothe her. "I wouldn't refuse her, my lady. Perhaps at Ludlow you would have been able to, but here, despite being only the King's mother, she is clearly in charge. As insulting as the message may be, you wouldn't want to risk her anger," Maria rationalized. As much as she disliked her mistress being treated this way, she knew it would be disastrous if Catalina were to refuse because of her pride.

"You are right Maria, this isn't Ludlow. I best go," Catalina agreed, sitting up so Maria could change her from her riding habit into something more suitable. She purposely choose her richest gown, one made of the finest blue silk and adorned with pearls, and it's matching Spanish headdress was just as fine as the gown itself. She dressed her throat, fingers, and wrists with the best jewelry she had. She intended to look every inch the Princess she was, to outshine the king's mother, who dared to insult her.

She walked down Richmond's many halls, purposely taking the longest route to Margaret's rooms, making sure to acknowledge every courtier that bowed to her, and even talked to a few that she recognized. She would not hurry for this woman, no matter how angry that mad the king's mother. She was controlled in every aspect by her, and she was sick of it. Feeling very confident with herself, she asked one of Margaret's ladies to announce her when she arrived, walking into Margaret's private chamber, only separated by a curtain. She stood erect as a statue and held out her hand for the old woman to kiss.

"You best curtsy so we can get on with this thing, and put your stupid hand down," Margaret commanded, rising from her chair. Catalina refused to move, standing steadfastly in her place, with her arm extended as she had done so many times before, her ring glistening. Arthur had told her many stories of how the king's mother controlled the Queen, and the Queen let it happen. Catalina, as much as she admired Elizabeth of York for brushing it aside, would not let it happen to her. She had too much pride in herself.

Margaret walked over to her, walking sarcastically as if she was awed by Catalina's presence, and then slapped her hand down gently. Henry had warned her not to let herself get too carried away by Catalina, who was far more defiant than Elizabeth, and slap her or harm her in any way. Margaret wasn't going to leave any marks or bruises, as she had done with Elizabeth, but she wasn't going to soft either.

Catalina was clearly shocked, looking at Margaret with blue eyes as cold as stone.

Margaret was unmoved. "Your highness will apologize for being so rude to me just now." Before Catalina could speak in protest, Margaret delivered her blow, "And for presuming yourself in charge of Wales. I was shocked when I had heard the reports that you dared to accompany Arthur to his meetings and such, and even more shocked when I had heard that you brazenly did such things without Arthur present as well! What has come over you?" Margaret asked, not waiting for an answer before continuing. "Clearly you have forgotten that you are no longer in Spain, my dear, you are in England, and here Princesses do not have any such duties expect for one thing; to provide their husbands with many fine princes."

"My lady misunderstands the situation. I was simply…" Catalina was cut off before she could continue.

"I misunderstand nothing, _Katherine_. Never presume to think so again, or else you will find yourself with a far harsher punishment that what the King has generously allotted. I do not know what the years in Spain taught you, but you best forget them now, Princess _Katherine," _Margaret stressed her title, using her English name. "You are no longer the Infanta Catalina, but you are now the Princess Katherine of Wales. Until you can prove yourself to be fertile and pleasing, you may find that title to be temporary," Margaret threatened, staring down Katherine's gaze. "From now on, you will be addressed as Katherine, Princess of Wales. You are no longer Catalina. You are to content yourself with needlework or some other occupation suitable for a lady of your noble birth. The King has forbid you from being involved in anything not directly involved with the upkeep of your household, so no more meetings or late night visits from your husband unless assigned by me. I have decided to allow Arthur to come to your bed every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, in hopes that you will conceive soon. Also, you may see each other at Mass and may continue to dine privately, but you must always have attendants present, and if it pleases you to ride out together when time allows it. No more night passages through that stairwell; it is now blocked by royal sentries on both sides. This illicit secrecy will stop. You are not in charge of anything yet, Princess, and you best not forget that," Margaret stressed, extending out her hand for the younger woman to kiss, indicating that the interview was over.

"My lady," Katherine humbled herself, kissing Margaret's hand before rushing out as fast as dignity allowed, willing herself not to cry in front of that stupid woman!

As soon as she was in the privacy of her own rooms, she sat down, unpinning her own headdress in frustration, and ignored Maria's coos of worry.

The worse blow was the loss of her name, Catalina. For so long she had clung to that name, as it was a remembrance of her happy childhood days when she was the beloved of her mother and of her father, and the envy of all of her siblings.

_Isabella stared at her daughter, impressed with how fast she had grown. At three years old, she had a look of maturity and grace that so few her age possessed. Her pride was evident in her small daughter, kissing her and hugging her as much as her great dignity allowed. _

_Catalina was being formally betrothed to Prince Arthur, King Henry of England's oldest son, that day. The girl, despite her tender age, understood that the match would make her the Queen of England one day, the almost equal of her revered mother. She was only three but she knew that marriage would someday bring her to a strange country, far away from her mother, but the pride in her mother's tone of voice and in her eyes made it all worth it. _

"_Now you must remember to look as solemn as possible, without showing too much excitement or displeasure at the whole thing, no matter how you feel. That is the true gift of a Princess, to hide emotion and only show it around God and your own self. That is the true meaning of dignity my dear Catalina. I am sure, of all of my children, you will never disappoint me." _

"_Oh _madre,_ I shall never reveal my truest self, never," Catalina swore solemnly, and almost recklessly. Isabella simply nodded, leading her daughter out to the church and to her fate. _

Katherine smiled fondly on the day. Even though she was only three, she was the beloved of her mother for so bravely embarking on something she knew so little about, marriage. Her words were a source of comfort, and Katherine could still remember the way she said her name, the way it sounded so beautiful coming from her.

Margaret Beaufort had taken it away. She had taken away every scant comfort she had made for herself.

She took Arthur and her secret passageway, because it wasn't in her instructions. She took away Katherine's influence during the Privy Council meetings, the days that caused her so much joy in her sometimes miserable existence. Arthur had survived his terrible illness, so it was clear that someday Katherine would be Queen of England, so she had thought that perhaps the King and his formidable mother would be happy that she was taken over the reigns of government for herself, or at least aiding Arthur while he was weak. Foolishly, she thought that they would be pleased with their behavior at Ludlow, making themselves into monarchs in training.

Perhaps her most foolish mistake of them all was thinking that England would treat her as kindly as Spain did.

* * *

His father was livid.

Any boy, despite his age, could see that. Arthur feared that it was directed towards him.

Upon his unexpected return to Richmond, he was commissioned back to his childhood rooms and bundled up like a child, and at Ludlow, his own home, he was not allowed to see his wife. As angry as he was at the previsions, the worst was yet to come.

His father had sent for him. Arthur quickly, with a few of his grooms and servants, went to his father's rooms. He wasn't allowed entrance, indeed his father was visiting with a foreign ambassador before Arthur was allowed to even step into the waiting room while his father was then chattering happily away to his younger brother, informing him of the gifts he would be receiving soon in his throne room.

Arthur had never been so snubbed before in his whole life, and he was very angry when his father calmly, as if nothing had just happened between them, requested a private audience, Arthur was tempted to refuse, but decided against it. It wouldn't do him any good when his father was clearly mad at him.

"Pray tell me boy, why it is you are so damn stupid," Henry requested of his son, sitting opposite of him in one of his more private apartments.

"Excuse me father?" Arthur asked, clearly confused. He thought his father was pleased with the way he was handling things in Wales. Indeed, he had never said otherwise. Arthur let out a small cough, but quickly smothered it, for fear it would anger his father.

"You allowed Princess Katherine to control your duties, your duties as the rightful Prince of Wales, mind you, while you lied in bed like an invalid. Do you know what I had to sacrifice to get your ass where it is today? Our family was hardly a contender to the throne until I made myself known, until I risked my life as a pretender just to win it. You would have been born into nothing, indeed not born at all, if it wasn't for my duty to my country. While you may love the Princess Katherine, she is still a foreigner and therefore not entitled to your lawful government of Wales. If you want to be a true and great King, like the first Arthur, you have to learn how to say no to people, including your wife. Do you know how badly it hurt me to not allow your grandmother, Queen Elizabeth Woodville, to stay at court to comfort your mother? I had to let her go though; she was a threat to me and to my throne. Do not allow yourself to be controlled by a woman, it would do no good," Henry explained, patting his son's shoulder. It was natural for him to make mistakes; he was just a boy after all, but it was more important that he learned from them.

"Princess Katherine, my wife, is the daughter of great Kings, father. She is a great co-ruler and is a wonderful partner for me. I do not wish to be a lonely King," Arthur pushed, scared of how his father would react. He also made sure to refer to Catalina as Katherine, because it was clear that his father was angry at her foreign nature.

"Too bad Arthur, all Kings are lonely. Learn to deal with it. She'll get over it. Her job is to have your sons; your job is to learn how to be a King. Get it done and I don't want to hear any more reports of ill-play at Ludlow or else you will not be entitled to go there anymore. Got it?" Henry sharply commanded, slapping his son's shoulders amiably before marching out of the room.

Arthur left shortly afterwards, stopping at Katherine's ignoble rooms and asked her to walk with him in the gardens, where his brother was playing.

He would not be a lonely King or Prince, no matter what his father said.

* * *

Sir Thomas Boleyn eyed his family, making sure they were in their best clothes, attired as well as they could be, before they went to be received by the King of England himself.

Thomas Boleyn was so pleased that he had received an invitation from King Henry to serve as an ambassador in the Netherlands. He was sure that his talents in languages and as a diplomat would service him, but he did not expect it would be in the reign of the present King, who had never even spared a glance at him while he stayed at court under the patronage of his brother-in-law, the Duke of Norfolk. Nevertheless, he was pleased.

He had married grandly into the Howard family to the beautiful Elizabeth Howard, now Lady Elizabeth Boleyn. His son and eldest daughter were proving to be handsome children, despite their tender ages. Mary was going to be turning six shortly and George was going to be turning five, and both were darling children. It was Anne, his youngest, whose looks may not prove to be fruitful towards any advantageous marriages, and her intelligence for her tender age of three and half was better suited in a male. She had pale skin and blue eyes, same as her sister, but her hair was darker and her neck was long and gawky. She was skinnier, unlike Mary who had curves despite being only five.

He was pleased to be taking Mary along with him to the Netherlands to receive her education, but he wasn't so sure about Anne. While Mary's looks would naturally draw pleasant attention to her, Anne's almost scary intelligence may be embarrassing. He was glad George wasn't coming with him; instead he felt it was wise for him to stay in England, where he could learn things better. George was his heir, after all, and it would do him no good to spend time away from the tutors he already enlisted for him.

Anne was his wild-card and he had no idea how he would play her to suit his ambitions.

"Sir Thomas Boleyn, the King will receive you and your family now," a man told him, leading him into the throne room were Henry Tudor was upon his throne, not looking much like a King but like a cheap merchant, as usual.

"Your majesty," Thomas said, sweeping into a well practiced bow while his family followed.

"Sir Thomas and I presume this is Lady Elizabeth, your lovely wife," Henry said, acknowledging his wife with a head nod while Elizabeth curtsied again.

"Yes this is my wife, Lady Elizabeth Boleyn, and our children George, Mary, and Anne," Thomas introduced, leading the three scared children in front of him who all bowed and curtsied as gracefully as they could.

He then motioned for their nurse, Mrs. Orchard, to take them away, as they had discussed, into the garden to play, leaving him and his wife alone with the King who wished to find out more about the man who was sending to as his representative and to discuss policy.

"Now children, I don't know how long your father is going to be in there," Mrs. Orchard started before the children ran away into the beautiful royal garden, "but you must behave yourselves."

"Can I play with them?" Anne asked Mrs. Orchard, tugging at her dress, after her older siblings had ran away without her, probably to play at some kind of game they never wished to teach Anne. Anne pointed to the two boys, who she had never seen before in her sheltered childhood at Hever Castle, who were playing tag.

"That's young Prince Harry and his friend, Charles Brandon. You best ask, and be kind to them, especially the shorter of the two. That's the Prince," Mrs. Orchard replied, pointing briefly to the louder of the two young boys, but the shorter. Both boys were tall for their young ages, far taller than George, who was younger.

Anne smiled and ran up to the boys, unafraid. "Hi, I'm Anne Boleyn. Can I play too?" she asked sweetly, smiling at them as she had seen her mother do to strange visitors.

Harry looked at Charles, who was smiling at the young girl, clearly unused to female attention. Harry was blushing; he thought the girl was beautiful. Not beautiful like his mama, who could never be outshined, but in a different way. "Sure you can. The rules are simple, you just run as fast as you can to catch up to me and Charles. Oh by the way, I'm Prince Harry, the Duke of York, and this is Charles Brandon, my best friend," Harry introduced, kissing the young girls hand, causing her to smile, and Charles mirrored his friend.

"Okay," Anne agreed, amused. She ran as fast as she could, which was hard in her dress, she thought, annoyed, and finally caught up to Charles Brandon, who was angry at being caught but took it in his stride. Harry restarted the game, and this time he and Anne were running from Charles. He was caught by Charles before Anne was, and the game restarted.

Harry was creeping closer to Anne, who was getting tired and clumsy because of her dress. They were running closer and closer to the edge of the circler pond which had slippery grass on all sides. With an ear-piercing scream, Anne slipped and tumbled into the shallow pool, which was only three feet deep, but a deep pool for a small girl.

"Harry, she's fallen!" Charles yelled, running the side, unsure what to do. Anne was a small child, and while the water was far past their heads, Anne had sunken under.

"I'll get her, don't worry!" Harry replied, alarmed. He would feel terrible if the girl were to drown because he had chased her into the pond. He began to strip off all of his garments, which would weight him down.

"Arthur, that young girl has just fallen into a pool! You have to help her before Harry drowns trying to save her!" Katherine, from the other side of the garden commanded her husband. They had decided to go for a leisurely stroll, both bothered by what they had heard that day. They hadn't spent much time together in any case, since their punishments at Ludlow, and they wanted to discuss the new rules given by the King and his evil mother. The garden was usually secluded, so Arthur had picked that as their walking place.

"Oh God," Arthur muttered, running as fast as he could into the shallow pool. The water barely came to his waist, but he was fully clothed and the water was cold. He waddled over to the spot where the young girl had fallen playing with his brother, who was stripping his clothing off dramatically. Arthur dunked his head under water and brought up the frightened, but luckily unharmed girl.

He dragged her to the grass, where she began to spit up the water that she had gathered in her lungs over the past minutes. "Are you alright?" he asked, alarmed when she had opened her eyes but didn't even scream or speak. He was dripping wet himself, and although he didn't notice, he was shivering.

"I'm fine. Thank you very much," Anne thanked her savior sincerely, kissing him on the check as soon as she stood up, while he was still kneeled down to her level.

Harry was beside himself, dressing himself back up into his garments and walked up to Anne. He hugged her tightly, which startled Anne. "Thank goodness Arthur saved you! Although, I could have," Harry added, glaring at Arthur who was being fussed over by his wife, who had just realized that she had sent her husband into cold waters after recovering from illness.

Anne was clearly overwhelmed, so she began to cry, which altered Mrs. Orchard who had missed the whole scene while she was fussing over Mary, who had cut herself on a tree branch and ripped her finest gown. "Oh dear Annie, what's wrong?" Mrs. Orchard said, picking up the young girl and carrying her over to her blanket that she had set out, and noticing that she was wet. "What has happened here, your highnesses?" she asked, addressing the two young princes. Arthur was wet from head to toe while Harry was messily clad in his clothing, having failed to put them back on correctly.

"You neglected your young charge, who fell into the pool while you were leisurely strolling," Arthur accused, ushering Harry and his young friend away, who were dismayed and startled by the day's events. He was indigent at the thought of a childhood nurse who carried nothing for the young child.

"I did no such thing, your highness. I was taking care of Anne's sister, Mary, who had cut herself. I was unaware that she had harmed herself. Forgive me if I caused any trouble," Mrs. Orchard replied, ducking her head down and said a silent prayer that Arthur would not tell her master.

"It was no trouble, just be a bit more careful or she won't be so lucky next time. What is the girl's name?" Arthur asked, glancing over at the startled girl, whose siblings were now fussing over her. He could see Anne pointing to him, animatedly telling the story of how she was heroically saved by the Prince of Wales himself!

"Anne Boleyn, daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, one of the King's ambassadors," Mrs. Orchard answered.

"Well tell her that she is most welcome and that I hope to see her at court soon," Arthur commanded, dismissing the nurse and giving Anne a cheapish smile and walked over to her.

"Thank you for saving my life, your highness," Anne said as soon as he walked over, flanked by Katherine who had remained silent throughout the whole thing, impressed with her husband.

"It was no problem, sweetheart. You must be more careful next time though, especially around my brother," Arthur commanded with a grin, before walking way hand in hand with Katherine.

For once, he felt as if he had truly acted as a man, not a prince and a child.

_Well I hope this one was a bit longer, and I hoped it soothed all of your Anne cravings! Don't worry; she'll be back soon enough :) Please don't forget to review and to be safe tonight! _

_Happy New Year! _


	8. Chapter Eight

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! I didn't think I'd have this chapter up ready to go so soon, but here it is. As always, don't forget to review and tell me what you think! Also a huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed or favorited or alerted this story. You guys are so supportive! I have some bad news though; my updates may not become so regular anymore. I go back to school the fifth and I am usually quite busy during the week, but I will try to update every weekend.

Huge thanks to ReganX who continues to help me whenever I need it. You're the best!

Without further ado (no historical note this time! I'm getting better) here's the eighth chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

**Richmond Palace**

March 30, 1510

Boleyn was confused. One of his daughters was soaking wet, her hair matted and even a few pieces of some kind of water plant were sticking out of it. Her gown was soaked and was dripping onto the fine floors of the royal chambers. The other had a deep cut in her arm and had torn her finest gown, and was clearly dismayed. George was cooing with worry at Anne, making sure that she wasn't going to catch a cold. Their nurse, Mrs. Orchard, stood before him with a look of pure terror. "What has happened?" he asked, kneeling down to Anne's level, whose face was also wet with tears. He whipped them with the sleeve of his doublet and patted her head.

Anne had hoped that Mrs. Orchard would just take her back to her rooms without fuss, and change her into warm gown and allow her hair to dry instead of ushering her back to her father, who would be naturally upset at the interruption of his important meeting with the King. Mrs. Orchard did not have the same thoughts as Anne though, knowing that she couldn't hide this whole affair, she hurried straight to where Thomas Boleyn was. To her dismay, Prince Harry and Charles Brandon followed closely behind, wanting to protect Anne and take the blame for themselves. Luckily, Prince Arthur was taken back to his rooms by his wife to change back into dry clothes so he wouldn't catch a chill. If Anne got the Prince of Wales sick, her father could possibly get recalled from his coveted post, and Mrs. Orchard wanted to hide his involvement, knowing that she could share the blame.

"I would like to know the same thing," Henry requested, looking at his son, whose clothing was in a state of disarray and then looking to the little Boleyn girl, who was shivering with fear and because she was wet inside of a cold palace.

"Your majesty," Brandon began, knowing that he should explain because he was the oldest and he didn't want Harry to get in trouble because he had chased Anne into the pond. "We were playing a game that required running, and Anne was running to close to the edge and she slipped and fell into the pond. His grace was going to get her, so he began to take off his clothing so he wouldn't be weighted down. Prince Arthur saw that the girl was drowning and so he hoped in after her," Brandon explained, noticing the dark look on Harry's face at the recollection of the event.

"Send for the Prince and Princess of Wales and tell them to come here," Henry commanded, sending a page to go run the errand. They had enough things to worry about with Arthur's health without him running into a pond, and certainly he wouldn't have done it on his own, knowing his weak health and he was never one for chivalry, which was always Harry's forte.

Arthur and Katherine came as soon as they were summoned. Arthur had changed into dry clothing but was still shivering and his blonde hair was dripping wet. Katherine stood next to him, resting her arm in the crook of his elbow with a look of worry etched on her face.

As soon as Boleyn saw the way the King and his mother looked at Arthur, he knew that he couldn't let Anne go unpunished, even though he felt bad for her. She was terrified, and knew that her papa was more likely to be angry than pleased. He loved her, and hated to do such a thing, but he wasn't going to allow his position as an ambassador to be compromised by something as trivial as this. "Anne, look at what you have done! You should have been more careful and listened to Mrs. Orchard! Now you may have gotten our dear Prince of Wales ill by coming in and saving you, when you could have just avoided trouble!" he grabbed her arm harshly, pulling her closer when she had backed away from his yelling. "When we get home, I will give you a thrashing you won't soon forget!" At this proclamation, Anne began to sob.

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but his grandmother spoke before he could. She moved to Anne's side, wrapping her skinny arms around the girl's shoulders. Anne was forced to look at her, scared by the woman already. "Now, Sir Thomas, there's no need to punish little Annie here. She is the youngest of the group in any case, and surely it was just an innocent accident and she didn't maliciously mean to put the Prince in harms way, isn't that right sweetheart?" Margaret asked, smiling down at Anne when she nodded her head, her blue eyes wide with terror.

"My lady is right. The girl didn't mean to, she's only three," Henry agreed, but not sparing a smile for the girl like his mother. Instead, he gazed over at Arthur and his wife with a thin frown on his face.

"Yes, the King has spoken sweetheart. Here's a sweetmint for you," Margaret said lovingly, passing over a small candy into the girl's hands and patted her head. Harry and Arthur looked at each other at this declaration, having the sense of humor to be amused at their grandmother's behavior. She never acted that way towards them when they were younger, always serious and would have never given them any sort of candy. Harry's face was grim with jealously while Arthur's was ripe with amusement.

"Thank you," Anne replied weakly, bobbing a clumsy curtsy. The King's mother scared her, and she wanted to leave and go back home, to Hever, into the warm sunshine, or at least into a dry gown while she was still a dreary Richmond, but another frown enveloped her face. She was going to the Netherlands soon, not right away of course, since she was only three and her sister was only five, but once she came of age.

"Anne, Mary, George," Boleyn called, his two oldest coming up to eagerly, hoping to get out of the place, while Anne was a bit more sluggish, still frozen with fear. "Go with Mrs. Orchard back to our apartments. Mrs. Orchard, change Mary and Anne into new clothing and do something about Mary's cut," Boleyn commanded. Mrs. Orchard all too eagerly rushed the children out, relieved that her master was not in trouble and that he wasn't angry with her.

"You may go to Sir Thomas, and enjoy yourself in the Netherlands. I look forward to forming an alliance with the Low Countries with your help," Henry said, dismissing Boleyn, who was also eager to leave. With his wife on his arm, he took his leave of the King and of England for a while.

"Arthur, what came over you? You've never done anything so foolish before, you should have let Harry handle it, he is more physically able. You just got over being sick, the last thing I want is for you to get more ill," Henry chided mildly, more worried than angry.

"Forgive me father, it's just, Harry is still a young boy, I didn't want him hurting himself or worse, drowning…" Arthur paused for a moment, his voice rattled with fear and nerves. The last thing he wanted was to get into more trouble. "Katherine saw little Anne drowning and Harry about to save her, so I had to hope in and take care of matters," Arthur finished, dropping his head down.

"Ahh, so this was Katherine's doing," Margaret smoothly replied, passing the blame from Arthur's head to Katherine's. "Shame on you for allowing your husband to put himself in harm's way, your highness. You should have known better then to let him do that," Margaret chided.

"Grandmother, will all due respect, I choose to save Anne. Katherine alerted me but I could have ignored it," Arthur dismissed his grandmother's notion, before turning to his father. "Father, isn't the duty of all Kings to protect their subjects? Isn't little Anne Boleyn my subject, along with her father and mother, who would have been grieved by the loss of their young daughter?" Arthur asked, trying to impress his father with thoughts of heroism, chivalry and the duty of a king.

"Still, you could have been hurt or taken ill, all because your wife wouldn't let the more healthy of our two heirs take care of it," Margaret stepped in before Henry could reply, accusing Katherine of ill-wishing Arthur. Margaret hated Katherine with a passion, more than she thought she could hate any person. Katherine defied her, and influenced Arthur in bad ways.

"Madam, you speak nonsense. I would have never presumed to put my beloved husband in harms way. Besides, he is not ill, just a little chilled that is all. He was a hero today, you should be proud," Katherine retorted, angry that the King's mother was insisting that she would purposely harm her husband. She loved Arthur dearly and would never jeopardize his health.

"We are proud of him, mother. Your reward is to go back to Ludlow tomorrow morning, to resume your life there. I think you have learned your lesson, my son," Henry commanded before his mother could speak again. He knew that she hated Katherine, and was eager to use this situation to her advantage. However, he knew that Arthur saved Anne because he cared for his future subjects, something that should be encouraged, he thought.

Arthur bowed to his father, offered Katherine his arm, and walked out of his throne room, glad to be gone. He was angry at his grandmother, who insulted his ability as a person because Harry was more robust and healthy than him. He knew that Harry was healthy, and that he had narrowly escaped death, but he couldn't let that hinder him becoming a great King. He also knew that his grandmother hated Katherine, and wanted to do anything to destroy her.

Margaret turned her attention to the two boys that were still standing there. She knew that Harry having a playmate would be a bad idea, and she hoped that this would prove it. "Charles Brandon, you should have never let Anne Boleyn play with you two. You are the oldest one of the group; I figured you would have enough sense to go easy on her at least, so she wouldn't fall into the pond. Shame on you," Margaret chided. If she couldn't nail Katherine of Aragon for ill-advising Arthur, she could at least get rid of the boy who distracted Harry.

"My lady, it was just that she was a girl and all, it wouldn't be very nice to tell her no. We were just trying to be nice," Charles defended himself. Harry had told him once that his grandmother was a sour old woman, who didn't care about very much but praying and involving herself in everything the King did. He figured that she would assume that he was trying to cause trouble because he had said yes to the adorable little girl.

"Yes, but she was so young. Perhaps you shouldn't be allowed to play with the Prince anymore, since you have proved yourself to be so irresponsible," Margaret suggested darkly.

"No, madam, please!" Charles pleaded, dropping himself at her feet. He had really begun to enjoy his lessons, and although theology was a boring subject, the Cardinal was a nice man who sometimes gave them treats for figuring out a hard passage. His mama was very impressed with his Latin. Also, he had begun to be close to Harry, and he enjoyed his friend's company.

"Mother, that's quite enough. Boys, be more careful next time. Charles, best run along now, so your mother doesn't worry. Harry, go back to your rooms and have Mistress Luke re-dress you, so you don't look foolish at dinner," Henry commanded, giving a sharp look to his mother after the boys had dismissed themselves. "That was unnecessary," he chided her.

"It's clear the boy isn't fit to be a companion to Harry, he isn't nearly as clever," Margaret explained, unhappy that her idea of thwarting Charles didn't work. She wanted to save some money as well, and providing his widowed mother with a pension, servant's wages, and apartments at Richmond didn't help matters. "The mother is draining our pockets too. She should get a job in the Queen's household so she's at least EARNING the money. Better yet, she should get a job in my household," Margaret suggested. She didn't think the young Mistress Brandon had done anything but lose her husband for her to earn money, and Margaret Beaufort knew that husbands could easily be replaced.

"That's not necessary either; I promised William when he died his family would be well taken care of. It would be selfish of me to withdraw my promise, and very sinful," Henry replied, disgusted with his mother's offer. Money could be taken out of pocket elsewhere, and he highly doubted that they were short on money. He was frugal with his spending and never went to war.

"Well in any case, the boy should find another schoolroom companion. The Prince deserves an unhindered education without thoughts of play or friendship," Margaret harshly suggested.

"No, and that's the end of it," Henry raised his voice, only to cough afterwards.

Margaret dropped her head to show her obedience, although inside every inch of her wanted to scream in protest. "Shall I send for the physician?" she asked sweetly.

"No, I'll be fine, I just need to rest. You can go now mother," Henry dismissed her with a curt wave of his hand, indicating that their interview was over. He began another fit of coughing while she was leaving.

It was only after she left did he pull his linen handkerchief from his mouth to find it crimson stained with his own blood.

* * *

**Greenwich Palace**

August 2, 1510

Harry had been seven now for nearly two months, and he was still pleased with all of his birthday presents. Every morning when he woke up, he had something fresh to look forward to.

Theology lessons with Thomas. Lessons in archery with his new tutor. Lessons in riding with his father's Master of the Horse. Riding around on his new horse whenever he wanted, usually with Charles Brandon's old horse. Taking out his falcon to show off to his new friends, William Compton and Anthony Knivert, who were both new to court. Being able to ride alongside the court on royal progresses, which they were on that summer.

Life was a lot better after he turned seven, Harry had had decided.

Of course, some things stayed the same. Arthur was the heir and was feted as such.

Katherine was still Arthur's wife, and Harry was still never going to have a wife. His mama hardly was allowed to visit anymore because his stupid grandmother took up all of his time.

And he never saw that girl, Anne Boleyn, to apologize for what had happened. She returned to Hever Castle, her family's home, after their incident by the pond. He still remembered her sweet laughter and her daring boldness. He would probably never see her again, Harry figured sadly, since her father was now stationed in the Netherlands, which were far away from England, and she would be joining him when she turned nine or so, to have her education there. By the time she returned to England, Harry would probably be a bishop or something, all because of his father.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the sound of female wailing outside his doorway. He curiously poked his head outside the door, to see his grandmother, in a rare moment of weakness, crying outside with a groom trying to calm her down. "Coughing blood?" her shrill voice questioned, tears streaming down her face.

"That's what the physician has said madam, hopefully he will only be bedridden for a few days and it will pass," the groom in Tudor livery tried to dissuade her, only to fail. She refused to move from the doorway from the King's rooms, and she had forgone all of her dignity by kneeling beside his door, pounding on it relentlessly.

"You don't understand. The girl, that Spanish girl, she will ruin all of my son's work. I have to see him!" Margaret exclaimed, looking up at the poor groom outside of his door, her face pathetic looking.

"Grandmother, what's wrong?" Harry asked, bursting out of his adjacent rooms. His father had commissioned his chambers to be close by his, in absence of Arthur he wished to control Harry.

"His majesty is coughing blood and was not able to rise from his bed this morning to go to his Privy Council meetings, although he insisted that they meet in his bedchamber. This stupid servant will not let me inside his room to see my son!" Margaret answered Harry with a distant look in her eyes, not even making eye contact with her grandson.

"I command you to open those doors. I wish to see my father," Harry addressed the groom, raising himself to full height and puffing out his chest a little bit. He was still the King's son and exercised some control as a Prince of England and the highest peer in England, after his father, brother, and mother. Not even the King's mother ranked higher than him, although she often acted as if she did.

"Forgive me, your grace, but Dr. Linacre forbids anybody that is part of the royal family to be in contact with the King. It is his majesty's orders as well that his beloved sons and daughter, along with mother and wife, be out of harms way," the groom explained, smiling kindly at little Harry. Although Linacre had tried to be hopeful around the King's mother and the poor Queen, who despite her husband's ill treatment of her still loved him, the groom and Linacre both knew that it was the King's iron will that had allowed him to hang on as grimly as he had been. Apparently, Henry had been coughing up blood for quite some time now, but had not told anybody until this morning, when he felt so weak he could not rise from his bed.

"Has the Queen, my mother, been summoned or at least told?" Harry asked, hoping that his mama wouldn't be too upset, and he also hoped that she would come. That way, he could at least see her, since he hadn't seen her since his birthday celebrations in June. He saw his grandmother involuntary cringe at the mention of his mama, which made him angry, too angry to react because if he did he would certainly kick the woman again.

"She has already come, and been denied entry because of Dr. Linacre's probation. She is still in her rooms, as far as I know your grace," the groom explained, a frown enveloping his face at the memory at how the gentle Queen reacted. She did not allow herself to succumb to hysterics, like the King's mother, but she did allow a few tears to fall down her face before turning around to head back to her rooms, where she could cry in private.

Harry nodded and thanked the groom, deciding to use this opportunity while his father was indisposed and his grandmother beside herself to go and visit his mother unhindered. He made his way down to the Queen's apartments at Greenwich, which he was a little bit unfamiliar with. When he reached her rooms, he straightened his doublet and flattened a non-existent wrinkle before entering. The last thing he wanted was his mama to be displeased with him.

"Your majesty, the Duke of York is here to see you," one his mama's ladies announced to her. He smiled widely when he heard her voice gracefully allow him entrance. After a clumsy bow he ran to his mother's chair where she had temporarily set down her needlework to give him a hug, and motioned for him to sit across from her.

"Are you okay, mama?" Harry asked, noticing that her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, which he presumed was from crying.

"I'm fine Harry, just worried about your father that's all," Elizabeth admitted but refrained from telling him the whole truth, that she was terrified. Henry had visited her chambers last night for a while, not to sleep with her, but just to talk idly, mostly about their daughter Margaret, who was dearly beloved by the Scots. He seemed healthy, and although he coughed a few times, she thought nothing of it. He kissed her goodnight and left to sleep in his own chambers. Had she made him sick? Was it going to make her sick? What was going to happen if he died while Arthur was so young? Who would protect her from her evil mother-in-law?

Who would kiss her goodnight and tell her that he loved her?

* * *

"When can I get up man?" Henry asked Linacre, impatient with the physician's restrictions. He was anxious to get up, and return back to Richmond. If he was going to die, he wanted to die at his home, not at Greenwich on summer progress.

"Your majesty can be put in a carriage tomorrow morning for your return back to Richmond. I advise your majesty not to overexert yourself when you get back to Richmond, and get plenty of rest. I see no reason why you cannot receive visitors, even your family, for your disease is not contiguous. However, I advise your majesty to stay in bed " Linacre explained, gathering all of his instruments to depart from the King's rooms.

"I don't want them to see me like this, but I suppose it's necessary. I have things I need to tell Arthur," Henry stressed, going to sit up but his head felt like lead and it dragged him down. He didn't want to die without his succession being firmly placed in his oldest son, and he wanted to thank his mother and wife. He wanted to die peacefully and without regret, and at Richmond.

* * *

**Ludlow Castle**

Katherine fingered the message given to her by the King's messenger. It was written by Dr. Linacre, the physician who attended Arthur when he had the sweat. The King was ill. The King was coughing blood. It was most likely the King was going to die.

She could taste it, it was almost there. She could feel the weight of the crown being passed onto her head. She could feel the fabric of her coronation gown smooth against her skin. She could feel the carriage ride through London at her coronation with the banners "A.K." streaming down all the buildings. She could almost see Arthur's blonde head with St. Edward's crown firmly on top of it. She could hear the people cheering their names, and the men tipping their hats the new King and Queen.

She was raised to be the Princess of Wales. Ever since she was a three year old girl, instead of playing or being read stories by one's mother, Katherine was schooled in the ways of a monarch, in the ways of a Catholic Monarch. Her mother raised her to be the future Queen of England, to protect the interests of her inherited country as well as the country of her birth. Despite being away from her home for a long time, Katherine could see the smile on her mother's face when she would hear the news that her youngest daughter had fulfilled her destiny.

It wasn't that she hated King Henry. She was sorry to see him die. Arthur was fond of his father, despite his sometimes harsh treatment of his wife and children and his blind love towards his mother. It was just that the death of King Henry was the end of her life under the protection of a watchful parent monarch and the fulfillment of her destiny given to her by GOD. It was the beginning of her reign as Katherine, Queen of England, and those were the four sweetest words ever to come out of one's mouth.

King Arthur. Queen Katherine. The young Catholic King and Queen. The beginning of a new era in England. The ending of a frugal and miserly King and his evil mother.

Katherine intended to be a just ruler and intended to aide Arthur in the creation of a second Camelot. Their court would set a standard of entertainment, youthfulness, and justice for all of Europe; even the invincible French Courts would be in awe of Queen Katherine and King Arthur's court. They would maintain peace and order by keeping true to the treaty with the Scots. They would protect England from the Moors, and protect the interests of all of Christendom.

Dreaming about her England was morbid at the time of another King's death, but Katherine couldn't help it. She couldn't even bring herself to go and see the dying King; for fear that her smile would be too wide and would anger the temperamental man. She was at Ludlow in any case, so her absence and Arthur's wouldn't be noticed until the court moved to Richmond. Arthur was summoned to his father's time of dying, and as his wife, Katherine would go with him.

She willed herself not to smile when she came to Arthur's chambers to comfort him, even though it was clear that although Arthur did love his father, his death meant one thing.

Margaret Beaufort, the dragon lady, would be seriously downgraded, and neither of them were displeased about that.

She frowned and hugged him when he said how sorry he was to hear his beloved father was nearing his time, but he couldn't even bring himself to cry because he was aware, like Katherine was aware, that their time was approaching.

They were both ready.

_Alright, well that's all for this chapter. King Henry VII is sick, but since this is AU, nobody knows when I am going to kill him off! Next chapter will be MUCH longer (since this one is a dud) and it will include a jump in years._

_Until next time, your reviews and feedback are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading! _


	9. Chapter Nine

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! I know I have kept you guys waiting for a long time, and I'm sorry for that. I've been kind of busy lately with school and cheerleading being back up again, and we had a lot of competitions this week so I apologize. Once things get more settled, I'll probably be able to update more, although I can't promise anything. Thanks for waiting so patiently and I hope this doesn't disappoint!

Please note the jump in years at the beginning of the chapter so you don't get confused. I also took some serious liberties with Katherine's family, so bear with me. Also, for anybody who is a "Rome" fan, I have written a small one-shot that I think you would all enjoy, so check that out if you sound interested :)

ReganX, you are amazing! Thank you :) Also, huge thanks to my reviewers. Your words are really a source of encouragement and also thanks to all those who favorited/alerted/read the story without reviewing, you are all amazing as well.

Without further ado, the ninth chapter of King Arthur II! Enjoy!

* * *

**Ludlow Castle**

June 21, 1513

It had been nearly three years since she had thought her time had finally come. How wrong she had been.

King Henry had hung on to his life grimly despite the odds against him.

After a short visit at Richmond right after he had gotten sick three years ago, she was bundled back up to Ludlow where she had stayed, usually alone, because when King Henry called the Prince and Princess of Wales back to Richmond, he had kept the Prince. Her beloved Arthur hardly came to Ludlow anymore, and that was worse than having to wait to become Queen.

She was bundled up her rooms for the most part, having to be contented with needlework or what Margaret Beaufort had deemed suitable occupations for the Princess of Wales. She didn't run Wales either, that was Arthur and his Privy Council's job and she had been banned from the meetings.

Arthur had written frequently, which was some consultation for Katherine, but what he had written was not something that she ever wanted to hear or read again. His father had taken him under his wing at last, teaching him how to govern. Arthur was learning how to become a King.

Katherine wanted to be happy for him, but she just couldn't. Every night they were allowed to see each other before the King had gotten ill they dreamed of their England. Katherine had planned on sharing power with her husband and advising him heavily when she became Queen. If King Henry was teaching Arthur how to become the kind of King that he wanted, that idea may not include her.

She was sure she was just as able as her husband in regards of running a country, despite her sex. King Henry didn't seem like the kind of man, however, that would encourage such sentiments between husband and wife. Queen Elizabeth certainly held no power over her husband and Katherine could just imagine how he would influence her Arthur to become just like him; miserly, selfish and dour. She didn't want to believe that Arthur would listen to him, but she couldn't be sure. After all, Arthur was still young, not quite yet nineteen, and he could still listen to his father over his wife.

Katherine could never allow that to happen. She was born and raised to become the Queen of England, not some royal bride on her husband's arm for show. She was not a woman that would stand idly by while her husband ran her inheritance. She had ideas just like Arthur and she wouldn't take kindly to those ideas being ignored. She had no idea what kind of things that King Henry was teaching Arthur, but she was almost positive that they wouldn't benefit her.

Her father and mother shared power, why couldn't she and Arthur? Well, surely, her sainted mother was the Queen of Castile in her own right before she married her father, but that didn't mean her mother stood by while her father ran the newly united Spain. Her mother refused to be a pawn for an alliance, and Katherine was determined to be the same way. Let King Henry and his evil mother believe that she was a woman just like any other that couldn't run a country, because in her heart she knew that she was a warrior and a ruler despite what her in-laws thought.

How she missed Spain still, despite all these years of living in England. Most of all, she missed her mother.

Unbidden, tears welled in her eyes. She dismissed her ladies rapidly and pulled out her box of letters. Most of them were from Queen Elizabeth, who always tried to stay cordial with her daughter-in-law. Some were from Arthur over the past three years, talking about his progress at Richmond and how much he missed her. Some were from Margaret Beaufort's secretary with formal instructions about running her household at Ludlow.

Carefully, Katherine pulled out the three most cherished ones, the ones from home. One was from her mother which she had sent with her on her way. It was very formal and didn't even include any words of encouragement, but her handwriting was still a comfort. The second one was the one she had gotten a few months after her marriage, with the words _be strong_ at the end. Katherine liked to look that one over more often than any book she owned. The last one wasn't written by her mother, but it was still important. It was from her father.

_From his most Catholic highness King Ferdinand of Aragon to his daughter Katherine, Princess of Wales._

When she had first received it, Katherine noticed his omission of the word Castile and knew that something had gone wrong, terribly wrong.

_Daughter, I regret to inform you that Queen Isabella has been taken from us by GOD. She asked me to tell you that she loved you dearly, and that she will be watching you from heaven as you rule England as its gracious Queen. She also asked me to give you this necklace which she has willed to you. _

Katherine pulled out the necklace which had come with the letter. She had gotten two years ago but every time she looked at it fresh amazement sprung to her heart and new tears to her eyes. It was a jeweled cross, every detail of it beautiful. She had remembered her mother wearing it all the time and fingering it when she got nervous. Katherine clasped it around her neck and she too, began to finger it and she re-read the letter given to her two long years ago.

_I am no longer enjoy being the King of Castile, so your sister, Juana and her husband Philip now rule. Juana is still mad, and unable to run a country, so I hope to gain the regency very soon. The only problem is her damn husband. If you can, speak poorly of Philip to King Henry and to your husband even. Remind them of our alliance. _

Katherine stopped reading the letter and twisted in face in disgust. She had not followed her father's orders of course; she refused to allow herself to be torn between her sister and father. Her father had always tried to remind her of England and Spain's alliance, but Spain was no longer, it had turned into Aragon and Castile once again. She knew that her mother would be disappointed in her husband and son-in-law, who fought like beasts over the land. Katherine outright refused to condone it.

Her country was England now and her father was a fool to think otherwise. Of course, her mother's death had implications for her in England as well. She was no longer of high value for England's alliance with Spain, since Spain was divided by Philip and Ferdinand. She had not yet fallen pregnant, which made the King's mother doubt her fertility. What she didn't realize was that it was hard to get pregnant when they kept her husband away from her and that Arthur was often too weak to make love. She knew it was important for Arthur to learn how to be a king, but she would much rather him stay at Ludlow and learn from his tutors than be kept away from her, where he could fall out of love with her or doubt her ability to help him become a great King.

The alliance between England and her father was becoming a liability since she had not yet given Arthur a son and that her father no longer wielded as much power in Europe. Arthur was very kind to her still, and still devoted to her, but Katherine hadn't seen him in nearly six months. He could have changed or worse, fallen out of love with her and found a new love who he would marry.

She turned her head and wiped her few tears when she heard her door creak open. When she saw that it was Maria, she rose and whipped her gown of all particles. Even though Maria was a friend, she couldn't see her when she was so weak.

"My lady," Maria greeted Katherine in her flawless English. Maria had dropped her accent quickly while Katherine's still lingered. She curtsied before her and rose at Katherine's bid. "I have a letter from the Prince of Wales," Maria smiled as she informed Katherine, knowing how much her mistress liked hearing from her husband whom she rarely saw.

Katherine graciously took the letter from Maria and commanded her to find all the other ladies so they could continue to attend her. She couldn't spend too much time alone, Margaret Beaufort would be suspicious.

_My Love, _

_My father is dying, and doesn't have much time left. Please come quickly to Richmond and travel light. Your belongings can be sent for later. _

_I love you and God bless you. _

_Your husband, Arthur. _

Katherine allowed herself to smile despite the gravity of the situation.

He loved her and the King was dying. She had to believe that her time had come finally and that Arthur would not back down on his promises to her.

If he did, she would just have to act as her mother and create her own influence with or without Arthur.

* * *

**Richmond Palace**

June 24, 1513

"Mother," Henry called weakly from his bed, his hand outstretched. Over the past few hours, Henry had turned much paler than usual and his bloody coughs became more frequent. His wife, mother, Arthur, and Mary stood by in his by his bedside. Elizabeth was on the verge of tears, Margaret Beaufort was beside herself with grief and had no trouble showing it, Arthur was solemn looking and stayed loyal by his father, while little Princess Mary being only six was unaware of what was going on.

"Yes, my son," Margaret replied, grasping his hand and was dismayed by the weakness of his grip. While Henry had not died yet, she knew it was only a matter of time before he would be dead. She loved her son, but was more dismayed by what would happen to her when he died. She knew that Katherine would exact revenge on her for treating her poorly ever since she had arrived in England, and that Arthur had no reason to be kind to her.

It wasn't as if she had influence anymore, Margaret thought wryly. Henry, in fear of leaving an inexperienced heir on the throne, consulted with Arthur more and used his young son as his chief advisor. Although Arthur was only eighteen, she knew that Henry had spent the last three years getting him ready for the burden he would inherit and in the meantime, had greatly diminished Margaret's influence. She was restrained to monitoring little Harry's household and Mary's Eltham one. Harry grew more and more resentful of her, but he still listened to her. Mary hardly knew her, because Margaret didn't find it necessary to visit the Princess, who would leave hopefully in six years to bring a great alliance to England, but it would most likely be under her brother that it would happen and it would be to some Spaniard if Katherine had her way.

It was Arthur now that Henry consulted about anything else, including foreign policy which Margaret had once excelled in. Margaret was dismayed, but she contented herself with doing other things. Margaret visited Harry at all times when he was not with the Cardinal. One accomplishment that Margaret had achieved was continuing to keep Elizabeth away from her son despite Henry's lack of concern about the topic now that he was dying. Elizabeth didn't dare to visit while Margaret was with him, and although she made more trips to Eltham to visit Mary, Margaret was glad that she had kept Elizabeth away from the male heirs.

"I owe you more than anybody else in this life and I am sorry my debt can never be repaid to you, but please mother, be kind to Elizabeth now that she is without me. Make sure Harry enters the church and most importantly, make sure that Arthur is a fair and impartial King. I taught him everything I learned from these long years with the throne, but I know he has much more to learn," Henry paused a moment to cough more blood into his linen handkerchief, "goodbye, mother."

"Goodbye Henry," Margaret replied, laying her hand on his thinning hair in a rare moment of affection before stepping back to allow to Elizabeth to say goodbye. Margaret choked back tears as she watched Henry slip farther away. Despite how badly he had treated her lately, she was sorry to see him go. She was losing her King, her only child, and her influence over England.

When Elizabeth walked over to her husband's bedside, her first urge was to throw her arms around him and never let go, but that could never happen. Even at this tragic moment of farewell, Elizabeth couldn't demean herself in front of her mother-in-law, who always sighed with impatience or scolded her when she acted anything less than regal. So she contented herself with giving him an encouraging smile and holding his hand. "Husband," she greeted him cordially and tried to hide her distress.

"Elizabeth, don't be sad, please. I have never given you reason to love me or to even respect me, you should be happy at this time," Henry admitted, giving her a small smile. He had always listened to his mother above her few requests and always thought himself better without her consul. He didn't give her much money or free harness to do as she pleased. With him dead, he knew that she would be much better off. Perhaps, with Arthur's permission, she could marry a man who would love her truly as she deserved, not a cold man like him. She was still young enough.

"Henry, don't say that. While you have not always been the kindest to me, you have been a good husband to me and given me the privilege of being your wife and Queen. I never wanted more from you because you have given me everything I could have asked for," Elizabeth replied, stretching the truth but she didn't care. Something inside of her made her love this man, this cold man. She had always thought it was because he was the father of her children, but he had to be more than that. Now, she would never know.

"When I die, please, don't mourn me forever. Be happy again, because God knows that you haven't had the chance to be for most of your life. Become close to Harry, even if my mother tries to stop you. What I did was wrong, but I really always just tried to act for the best interest of my country. Raise Mary to be just like you, you were a perfect wife to me in every way. You understand why I kept you away from them, don't you? Don't let my commands stop you from loving our children once I leave this world," Henry rambled, cupping her tear-stained face in his hands before muttering the words he had wanted to say for a long time, "I love you so much Elizabeth."

"Henry, I have never loved anybody but you and I will never love anyone again," Elizabeth replied, her eyes crying more tears.

"Shh, don't weep. Now go, and don't waste any more tears on me wife," Henry chided good naturedly, releasing his grip from her hand before turning attention to his son, "Arthur, where is your wife?"

"I don't know father. She just got here a few hours ago, I'm sure she'll be here soon," Arthur replied, wondering the same thing himself. He knew that Katherine was less than sad about what was happening to his father, so she was probably preparing herself to look somber instead of joyous. He hadn't seen her in months, so he was also anxious to see her. If he could have, he would have visited her, but his father was so ill and he wished for Arthur to be with him.

Harry came stalking into the chambers a few moments later, looking upset to be there, but no doubt because he had been torn from his games or his lessons not because his father was dying. Harry had never really spent time with his father since he had gotten sick, he didn't care to be cooped up in a somber chamber when he could be out playing, especially when it was clear Harry probably wouldn't become King in his future.

"My son, come here," Henry called to Harry, admiring his son for a few moments before speaking to him. He certainly did make Arthur look pale in comparison. At ten years old, Harry had surpassed his brother in size and already was more mature looking than his older brother. He was just as clever as Arthur and was far more athletic. However, Henry knew that Arthur was the better choice for the first born. Arthur understood responsibility and Harry was more interested in showing off his many God-given talents when it suited him, unlike Arthur who always displayed a level head and a sense of duty that Harry lacked. As the boys grew older, it was far more evident to point out the differences. Henry believed that if Harry ever became King, it would be a disaster. Hopefully, with his parting words, he would make sure that Harry understood his place.

"Father," Harry bowed by his father's bedside, annoyed by the ridiculous rituals of a royal death. He wasn't upset that his father was dying, he hardly knew him and he didn't like that he was mean to his mama. He felt that by far Arthur would be a better King than his father, and Arthur was a nice brother, even though he could sometimes be boring. While he thought that he would personally make a better King than anybody else in his family, he figured Arthur would do.

"Son, when you are eighteen, you are going to be entering the church. I'm sure your brother will make sure that you are one of the highest members of the clergy. Until then, keep yourself pure and do not marry or fornicate with any women. Be good to your mother as well," Henry commanded, giving Harry a weak smile before focusing his attention onto Arthur.

"Your majesty," a female voice said. Henry turned to face the curtsying Katherine, looking as beautiful as she always had in his eyes since she had arrived in England. She was dressed regally, as always, and stood back before she was beckoned by Henry to come and sit by Arthur. At twenty one, Katherine looked ready for the role she was about to take on, and Henry hoped that he could believe the same for Arthur.

"Katherine, you are a good wife to my son. Continue to be so and give him many fine princes," Henry commanded, leaving it at that when she nodded. Henry believed that he had picked the right bride for his son, and was happy that they loved each other despite the circumstances of their marriage. It was all royalty could ask for.

After a few more hours of punctured silence and quiet prayers for the weak King, a priest was summoned when Henry succumbed to hallucinations. For a while, he believed that he was still in exile awaiting his return to England, and for a short while he thought it was the night before Bosworth. He talked to Arthur as if he were his best friend instead of his father, whimsically remising about things Arthur had no clue about.

After the last rites were given, Henry fell into a deep sleep, and in the early hours of the morning, he left his kingdom in the hands of his son.

His family was the first ones to kneel before him, along with his wife. When he stepped out of the somber chamber of where his father had just died, a man bellowed in his loudest voice:

"The King is dead, long live the King."

* * *

**Westminster**

June 26, 1513

Harry didn't like the way black looked on him.

His mother had quickly sewed him a black doublet, because Harry had none. He didn't like black clothing, it was so boring. He liked bright colors, even though most of his clothes were handed down to him from Arthur, even though he was bigger than Arthur and Arthur's clothes were plain. Harry had made it clear, though, that he wanted nothing sad in his wardrobe, so he had inherited nothing black from Arthur. Harry was almost certain that Arthur had plenty of black clothing, enough for to clothe his whole country in black for the mourning of their father.

Arthur wasn't coming to their father's funeral today. It was treason to imagine the death of a King, and now that Arthur was technically King, he wasn't allowed to come, no matter how badly he wanted to. Harry found that strange, but he was okay with it because he would be the only royal son in attendance today.

Expect, it wasn't a competition anymore. Arthur had won. Arthur was King. Arthur was married to Katherine. And Harry, like it or not, still was expected to go into the church.

It had been two days since his father had died and already the whole city was celebrating. Harry thought it was very disrespectful to celebrate when a person died, especially when it was the King of England, but he couldn't help but be excited himself.

England had a new King Arthur.

Thomas had told him once about the first Arthur, who lived a long time ago. He was remembered fondly by all the English people and was the topic of many myths. Thomas said that all Kings strove to be like the first Arthur to some degree. Harry didn't think his father was anything like him, but he thought that his brother might be someday, at least he could hope. England certainly would be a lot better of a place to live in.

Harry walked solemnly next to his sister, her elbow tucked into his as they walked into the hall of the grand cathedral for the ceremony. Mary had turned into a pretty little girl already, Harry thought to himself as he walked next to her. Her hair was red-blonde, like their mother's, and she looked good in black. His mother insisted on walking next to them both, her hair tucked firmly into a gable hood and a fine, but plain, black dress rested on her frame. Harry loved the feeling of her hand tucked into his, and for once he felt like he belonged to a real family, despite his father's death. Margaret Beaufort walked behind them, and Harry took pleasure in that. From now on, his grandmother wasn't going to be able to keep him and his mama apart. Harry thought that he had never seen his grandmother in anything but black, but he felt like she had overdone it for this occasion. Every inch of her was covered in fine black silk, including her already black hair. Harry thought she looked like death personified.

"Get that smile off your face, Harry," his grandmother scolded sourly behind him, lightly cupping his ear before they entered the chapel. Harry turned to face her, an angry look about his face. He wasn't even aware he was smiling, and he knew that he shouldn't be, but his thoughts were pleasant and it was natural to smile.

"Watch it Margaret," Elizabeth whispered between clenched teeth, subconsciously tightening her grip on Harry's hand. Elizabeth wasn't about to let Margaret's antics interfere with her children anymore. No matter how sad she was about Henry's death and no matter how badly she missed him, she couldn't be sorry about it because Margaret Beaufort was no longer honored as she believed was her right. She stopped abruptly before entering the church. She didn't want the common people to see her and her mother-in-law get in a fight.

"You have some nerve!" Margaret angrily whispered, moving closer to Elizabeth. "They are still my family's heirs, not yours you wench!"

"Watch who you are calling a wench, I hold precedence over you still, Margaret, and I am not prepared to allow you to treat me and MY children poorly. You had your time with my husband, but now he is gone and we must mourn him properly," Elizabeth insisted, pleased with herself. She loved Henry, but with his death, her chains were broken and she was free, as free as a woman could be. As Queen Dowager, she depended on the good will of Arthur and Katherine, but both were more warmly disposed to her than Margaret Beaufort.

Margaret conceded with a heavy heart and moved to the back of the small royal precession. Elizabeth moved forward, taking Harry's hand and allowing Mary to break free of Harry's escort and take her other hand.

She wanted the people to see that she was alone now, a widow with two young children, and to see that Margaret Beaufort was representation of the miserly old King, even though her heart cried out for Henry still. She knew it needed to be done though for her children and for herself because she was sure that with their help, she would be free at last.

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

June 30, 1513

"Arthur, what is the matter?" Katherine asked, trying to focus on his thoughtful face from the dim light of the fire. They were in bed together, stripped down to their night clothes in her new chamber at Whitehall. Katherine had never known rooms could be so beautiful until she had settled into her new apartments, the official ones of the Queen of England.

The new monarchs had moved quickly from Richmond to Whitehall, as this was Arthur's favored residence when he went on summer progress as a young Prince. Now that he was King, he intended to make it his present residence and most frequently used palaces in London. Although his father had restored Richmond with the intention of it symbolizing his new dynasty, Arthur felt like it would be better known as his father's palace, not his own.

His father did many good things for England in his reign, but Arthur intended to distance himself from his father's reputation as a King. He spent a long time with him while he was bedridden, and if there is one thing he learned, his father was a miser and hid a great deal from his people and family, advice that he had passed along to Arthur. Arthur had no intention of taking it.

A memory hit Arthur of one summer evening two years ago, one where his father was explaining the role of a Queen of England.

"_About your wife and marriage, Arthur, let me give you a few words. I stayed faithful to your mother even though when I was young and newly come to the throne, I could have had any woman I desired. I stayed faithful to her because she was the perfect wife to me, obedient and unquestioning. She was raised well, raised in the ways of a Princess of England. I do not know how Katherine was raised, but I advise you to stay faithful to her. That way, she won't ask for anything else," Henry paused to cough, and his words came out muffled._

"_Father, I love Katherine, don't worry about me straying. But I do not wish for her not to consult with me or to give me her opinions. That is the true meaning of love for me, and I do not want ruin our connection," Arthur explained, stunned by his father's words. He couldn't imagine anything else than Katherine being beside him for the rest of his life and sharing his burdens as a sovereign. It was what they had agreed upon. _

"_That is a mistake son. Katherine is a strong woman, I do not doubt it, but she is going to be the Queen of England. It is unbecoming for a Queen Consort to share in your duties as the rightful King of England. It is a mistake to trust her fully, she was born female and her duty is to give you children. Interfering with matters concerning you exclusively will take away from that," Henry advised, thinking about his own marriage. He couldn't imagine his marriage being as Arthur envisioned his to be. _

"_Okay father," Arthur replied, digesting his words._

It had taken him a few days to reconcile with it, but his father was wrong.

Katherine would be a great Queen, but not behind the scenes as his mother had been. Katherine understood the ways of monarchs more than anybody else he knew, despite the fact that she was a woman. It would be foolish of him to disregard her because she was a woman.

"Nothing, I'm just thinking. Thinking about how wonderful it will be once we start to rule together. All this mourning stuff is boring, but just think about what will happen once my father is forgotten. He left me money, a great deal of money. We could do whatever we pleased, such as build a second Camelot, as we envisioned my sweet," Arthur explained, taking her hands into his.

"So you intend to let me help you?" Katherine asked, still apprehensive. She had feared that Arthur would have learned things from his father that would affect her even though he was gone, even though he appeared to still be okay with the plans that they had discussed before King Henry had gotten sick.

"Of course, you are my rightful Queen, the only woman I love. There's nothing I would rather have done than get us coroneted so the people can see my beautiful wife and their new Queen Katherine, who will accompany me in every decision I make," Arthur replied, smiling as he brought her milk-white hand to his lips. This night, unlike many nights he had in Katherine's bed, he felt alive and ready to make love. Usually he was weak and drained but today he was the King and he was ready to take on anything.

"I have never heard anything better, my dearly beloved King Arthur. Now, we must make our children, our princes and our princesses," Katherine invited, and Arthur was all too happy to comply.

As Arthur lay next to his naked wife, the words popped into his head that he had heard six days ago, "The King is dead, long live the King" and all he could think of is "Long live Katherine of Aragon, Queen of England" should have been said right along with it.

_So that's all for now folks! I hope this chapter satisfied you all! Don't forget to review and thanks for reading :) Until next time…_


	10. Chapter Ten

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone, welcome back! I hope all of you enjoyed the last chapter, and that this chapter doesn't disappoint! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/alerted/read this story, you are all amazing! It is a huge comfort and encouragement to me to know that I have so many loyal fans of this story and that you all enjoy it. Hitting Chapter Ten is a huge deal for me, because I'm corny like that :)

Without further ado, the tenth chapter of King Arthur II!

* * *

**The Tower of London**

August 21, 1513

Although it was tradition for the monarchs who were about to be coroneted to stay in the Tower beforehand, that didn't make Arthur any more comfortable with it.

Arthur's two young uncles had lost their lives mysteriously in this place. The doubt surrounding their deaths still baffled England at the time, and Arthur didn't feel comfortable being around the place where they had died, even though they were housed in dark dungeons, and he in much more comfortable lodgings.

They were his mother's brothers after all, and had been princes just like him. They were like Harry and him, and their royal blood had not saved them from a brutal death, in fact it caused their death. Arthur could remember hearing about a time when his father had newly come onto the throne, when he was a little more than an infant, and the crown rested uneasy on the new King's head. His father had feared for his heir's life, and left Eltham heavily guarded, and did not allow him to enjoy the fresh air, in fear that somebody would kidnap him and hide him away, or possibly kill him.

Arthur never forgot that hard lesson taught by his uncles' deaths and his father's early years as King. Being royal didn't save him from a death, in fact, it made him a target.

Tomorrow he was to be coroneted. It was supposed to be the day he went from being a mere Prince to an anointed King, appointed by God to watch over the people of England. He had waited for this moment all of his young life, yet he couldn't help but be scared.

He heard Katherine sigh next to him and shift her position, and he figured that she was restless, just like him, unable to sleep on such a night. He tapped her shoulder, and despite how warm the night was, her shoulder was ice cold. "Katherine," he whispered, causing her to moan and sit up.

"I can't sleep," she said frankly, gathering the blankets around her body. Both of them were too nervous to make love that night, and they had retired earlier than usual, hoping to catch a good night's rest so they wouldn't look tired for the next day. Arthur had lain awake for the whole night, and by the sounds of it, Katherine had too.

"Neither can I. It's too much to think about. I hope that it all goes as planned," Arthur voiced. He had spent the last few weeks in his privy chamber with his new advisors, planning out the coronation. Arthur wanted it to be a grand occasion, grander than his wedding or anything his father ever did. He wanted to show his new subjects the wealth of the crown, the youthfulness of him and Katherine, and the prospect of a new future. Cardinal Wolsey, his brother's tutor, had joined him in many of these meetings and voiced most of the opinions and made most of the arrangements. Katherine had also joined him, and wasn't afraid to voice her own ideas. Many of his advisors were scandalized by this, but he didn't care.

He promised something to Katherine, and like his father had once said, it wasn't good to break promises, especially when you were a King. He knew his father wouldn't like the fact that Katherine was advising him, but he was beyond caring.

His mother was proud of him. She commended him and Katherine for working so well together and enjoying each other's company. Arthur knew that Elizabeth would have never dreamed of sharing power with her husband, even though most of England knew that she had just as much a right to the throne as her husband did. She would have never dreamed of causing such a fuss, and Arthur knew his mother wasn't strong enough to hold a throne by herself.

Katherine was nothing like his mother. Arthur believed that if she had a claim to the throne of any country, she would seize that opportunity and hold that throne as ably as his father did. Of course, she would have more trouble, since most places did not take kindly to female rulers, but Arthur had no doubts that she would be able to do it. Arthur didn't believe that his father knew the nature of Katherine when he proposed a match between him and Katherine, because his father probably would have backtracked if he did.

Arthur knew that it was a lie that he wasn't at all scared of Katherine and her ambition. She was fiery and the only person he knew that was brave enough to stand up to his grandmother. Katherine had advised Arthur not to invite her to the coronation, and he agreed with some difficulty. She was in some ways the founder of his royal lineage, and he felt guilty for not inviting her.

That is, until he heard her reaction.

"_How dare you!" Margaret Beaufort exclaimed shrilly. Arthur stood in front of her, dressed in his finest clothing as to not be intimated and to show her that he was King now, but it was no use. The sound of her voice made him want to shrink back into bed and give up the fight. If it wasn't for Katherine standing right next to him, a reminder of the promise he made to her, he would have left and allowed his grandmother to attend the coronation, hopefully pacifying her anger._

"_Now, my lady, it is best not to be overworked, not at your age and in your condition. It is better for your health to stay home," Katherine soothed, coldly referring to the old woman as if she were nothing more than an annoyance. Katherine didn't feel like having her in attendance on the day that she would become Queen of England. Katherine knew Margaret well enough to know that she would want to overshadow her on her special day. Katherine would not allow that to happen, not anymore. It was her first step of revenge against the woman who had made her life a living hell while she was the Princess of Wales. _

"_Shut up, you bitch! Arthur, you best learn to control your wife, for she is nothing more than a wench, unfit to be the Queen of England! This is an insult, and I demand to attend!" Margaret exclaimed, moving closer to the new monarchs, unafraid of their reaction. She had lost her son and Arthur was taking away the last speak of hope she had in life, to play a part in his reign as she had done with Henry. She knew it wasn't Arthur's fault, but only he alone could revoke the insult that Katherine was heaping on her. _

"_Grandmother, calm yourself, and refer to her majesty with all due respect. You are not coming, the arrangements have already been made, and because of your health I do not wish for you to strain yourself," Arthur replied. His Privy Council had advised to invite Margaret, but Katherine didn't want it. He could deny her very little now, and didn't want to upset her. Besides, since his father's death, she did look much older than before, and was nearing the age of seventy. All the excitement would not be good for her, and Arthur didn't trust her to dress brightly and to celebrate his achievement. Her presence would be a dark cloud over such a happy day. _

"_I'll tell you something, my darling grandson. You will be nothing more than an embarrassment to this great country and to your father's throne. You cannot sire children; you cannot rule a household, let alone a nation. You are doomed for failure. You may have your fancy coronation and blow all the money me and your father carefully saved, but it will do you no good. You may hold the country for a year, perhaps more, but that's it. Some foreign monarch, probably the Spaniard's nephew, will seize the opportunity to attack a weak England with a weak King, and all your father's work will be finished because of YOU!" Margaret prophesized darkly, glaring at Arthur with the most hatred he had ever seen out of the old woman. _

Arthur, at the time, had shrugged her words off as a sign of her growing age and her anger at not being invited. He knew that she wouldn't take it well, but he didn't expect her to be so cruel to him and to Katherine. She was always a woman unafraid to voice her opinions, but Arthur didn't think she had thought so lowly of him. After much pondering, Arthur began to fear that her words had some value. He had yet to get Katherine pregnant and he knew that the blame couldn't solely be laid at her door. He had never regained his vitality after he caught the dreaded sweating sickness, and that made it hard.

However, Katherine was quick to shrug Margaret's words aside forever and move on. She also described them as words of a woman gone mad with grief and self-pity. Katherine also was not worried about the lack of heir. She blamed it on the fact that the King had kept Arthur close by for the past three years, and that they were so young in the early days of their marriage. They were still young, Katherine had told him, and that heirs would come in no time.

Katherine had come from a fertile family, being the youngest of five. Arthur's was of course the oldest of his four siblings, but he was always taught it was the woman who determined the sex of the child and how healthy the child was. However, he couldn't believe these words, not now. He was sickly, not Katherine who was as healthy as ever.

"I'm sure it will go fine, love. The plans are without a fault. The Cardinal is very clever," Katherine replied, drawing him from his thoughts.

Arthur nodded, although Katherine could not see in the darkness of the room. Cardinal Wolsey had done a wonderful job overseeing the coronation and had assured the young King that all would go well. Arthur was puzzled by Wolsey's sudden interest in him, but he took it at face value. Wolsey had enjoyed much power when it came to the church under his father. Surely he would wish to court Arthur's favor too. It did Wolsey no good to continue to tutor Harry, although Arthur had not relived him of that duty yet, he was going to soon. "Do you think the people will like us?" Arthur asked, fearing the worst. Many of the Englishmen and women had less than fond memories of King Henry VII. The common people hated all the taxes and the nobility hated that he had taken away their military strength. Arthur hoped that they would see him as a fresh start; a handsome eighteen year old with a beautiful wife. He was always cheered for loudly when he went out in public as the Prince of Wales, and he just hoped that that would not change now that he was King. Surely the people knew that he would never carry his father's policies, as miserly as he was?

"Of course they will. You are their new Arthur, and tomorrow will be a preview of what is to come. A new Camelot," Katherine replied, repeating her optimistic promise. Camelot was always in the back of their minds.

"I sure hope so. How do you feel love?" Arthur asked, sensing that she was hiding something. Her voice sounded tense and her body was cold. He pulled her closer to him, and could feel her shiver, despite the heat of the night.

"Scared, just like you. This is all so much to take in. I was raised to be the Princess of Wales and the Queen of England someday, and it is just so hard to believe that the day is finally here. It's like everything that I have worked for is coming together and I just want to pinch myself to make sure that I'm not dreaming. I always was excited about coming to England and starting my life here, but I just feel so blessed. I love you, and that wasn't supposed to happen. I was not trained to love, I was trained to rule and to strategize and to fight. This, our marriage of love, wasn't in my plans and it scares me, it scares me so much," Katherine explained, involuntary hugging herself.

"Don't be scared. We are going to be the best King and Queen of England this country has ever seen, and because we love each other, it is going to be easier. I wouldn't want anybody but you," Arthur assured, kissing her forehead. She leaned into his embrace. "Go to sleep now, our lives are starting tomorrow, and we shouldn't be tired," Arthur commanded lightly. He smiled when he heard her soft breathes and felt her heat on his chest, signifying that she was asleep.

Even if he couldn't sleep, at least she could, and Arthur would give up anything to make his wife happy.

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

August 28, 1513

Arthur was King now. Harry was still the Duke of York, but for how long?

Arthur and Katherine would have children of their own, and if they had two boys, the second one would be named the Duke of York, and he would be nothing. He would be a clergyman, forbidden to marry and doomed to spend the rest of his life bored and alone. The clergy didn't hunt, or dance, or do anything that Harry thought was fun. Thomas had told him that being a clergyman wasn't so bad, but Harry didn't understand how he could think like that. To him, it sounded like prison, and Thomas made it sound like the best occupation in the world.

Harry would never be King and Harry decided would be so much more boring now that his father was dead. At least with his father alive, Harry had a secure position as the Duke of York, and he didn't have to worry about entering the clergy for a long time. Now that Arthur was King, things had changed for Harry and he was far from pleased.

Arthur had already taken things away.

Harry wasn't tutored by the Cardinal anymore, since Arthur thought that Thomas should be by his side as one of the members of his Privy Council, possibly the President. Arthur had promised him that he would replace Thomas with somebody else, but it had already been a day and in Harry's mind that was far too long. Also, since the court no longer lived at Richmond, Harry's new home was at Whitehall in a different set of rooms. They weren't closer to the King's since nobody predicted him to be heir to the throne for much longer.

Harry set down his book which he wasn't reading and paced around his private chamber, trying to think of things that were positive about all this change. Of course, he was allowed to see his mama much more, and he spent everyday with her. His grandmother didn't come around as often, but when she did she was a lot nicer to him than before. Harry figured that it was because that she was downgraded very much under his brother's new reign, and found something nice in Harry. Harry would never be mean to the old woman, he almost felt bad for her since she wasn't even allowed to come to the coronation!

Harry found the coronation to be so grand, and even though he was suppressing some jealously while watching it, he couldn't help but be pleased by the whole thing, considering that he was still a child of ten years old. Arthur looked like a true King, dressed in all white and gold. When he received the crown on top of his head, he looked regal and majestic, disconnected from the rest of the world. Katherine looked more beautiful than ever before to Harry, wearing a dress, like Arthur's clothing, of white and gold. Her long black hair hung down her back and she looked like a Venus of some sort, taken from the pagan fantasies Harry had learned about. Harry was entranced by the new King and Queen on that day.

As well as the wonderful coronation procession, there were multiple banquets, masques, and jousts for three days afterwards and Harry had enjoyed them. He couldn't remember having that much fun under his father's harsh glare and he hoped for many more fun times under Arthur. The common people were also glad to have a new youthful King; they cheered loudly for Arthur and Katherine as they passed through London on their glorious chariot and were pleased with the free wine and food given to them throughout the last couple days.

The old days were gone, and with King Arthur II a new Camelot was born, a notion Harry tried to be pleased about.

"Harry!" a female voice exclaimed from his doorway, drawing him from his thoughts.

"Mama!" Harry responded, running into his mother's outreached arms and began to plant loud kisses on her cheek.

"How's my boy?" Elizabeth asked, eying Harry and she smiled when she saw how well her youngest son looked. She knew that Harry was upset about Arthur assuming the throne, but at least it didn't affect his happy childhood disposition and pleasure at seeing his mother. Elizabeth knew that he wasn't happy about his tutors being taken away, but Elizabeth was sure that Arthur would find suitable replacements. After all, it was better to teach Harry his place was in the church before he got to old to question those ideas, as Elizabeth always had in her own mind when Henry was still alive.

"I'm fine, but bored," Harry sulked. Arthur had not permitted him to resume sporting lessons, and Harry wasn't sure if he was going to, leaving Harry very bored. He was even glad to see his grandmother at times, because she had been nicer to him as of recent and even brought him sweetmints or other candies. Of course, Harry's favorite time of day was when his mama came to visit.

"Why haven't you gone to see if Charles wants to play? I'm sure he is bored also," Elizabeth suggested. Mistress Brandon was not left out to dry now that Henry was dead, as Arthur continued her pension and allowed for her and her son to reside at court in nice apartments. Charles continued to have lessons with Harry and the two of them had become inseparable.

"I did, only he was out with his mother today, riding. Same with William and Anthony, they were doing something or another. Their fathers are probably teaching them how to hunt," Harry responded enviously. It was unlikely that he was going to ever learn how to do things that all boys knew how to do because priests and clergy weren't like other boys; they weren't allowed to have fun.

"I'm sorry Harry, I know how much you want to learn how to hunt and ride and all those things, but don't worry everything will turn out okay. You can dine privately with me tonight and we can talk more, okay? I have to go see the King now, he has requested my presence, but I just wanted to stop here first and see how you were doing," Elizabeth explained, standing back up from where she was kneeling and started towards the door.

"I'd love to dine with you mama," Harry beamed.

"Good, I'll see you tonight then," Elizabeth responded, ruffling his dark hair and leaving.

Harry sat back down, trying to hide his anger despite the fact that he was alone and could do as he pleased. Even his mama, who favored him above all, had to see Arthur over him.

Between him and Arthur, it would always be Arthur from now on.

* * *

Margaret Beaufort had never been a sick woman, and so when she began to stay in bed more often to take rest, it worried her. She had never felt as miserable as she during the past two months, since Henry, her beloved son, had died.

One person had told her that emotionally distress, combined with aging, could be fatal. Margaret could call that person a genius now when at the time she had called them a lunatic.

She never realized how much she loved Henry until he died. It wasn't just the loss of her only child, it was more than that. It was the loss of any figment of power she once held, it was the loss of her hard work, and most importantly, it was the loss of that wonderful feeling of having everything. Henry had been her gateway into becoming the first woman in England. Now she was fourth, ranked behind Katherine, Elizabeth, and little Mary. Katherine and Elizabeth she never held any respect for, and Margaret found the idea of yielding to a mere child insulting. She was aware that when Henry was alive she was ranked second, behind Elizabeth of York, but at least she only walked a half a pace behind her and that in terms of things, she was really more like the Queen than Elizabeth.

She knew that one day Arthur would become King, a day that she at one time looked forward too, but she didn't think that his wife would be so damn difficult! Margaret always knew that Arthur was weak in both mind and now physicality, but she never expected him to yield so easily to his _foreign _wife. She couldn't believe that she, of all people, was not invited to the coronation!

Katherine never left Arthur's side since Henry had died, even when he had to attend meetings. No Queen had ever done so before, and to Margaret that was the scariest thing ever.

An unexpected cough violently rippled through her body, leaving her shaken for a few moments. She knew that death was knocking at her door, and that she had to find a priest or bishop (preferably) to administer her last rites. She hoped that Arthur and Katherine would grant her dying wishes and that they would give her a grand funeral and bury her near Henry, since the spot next to him was reserved by Elizabeth of York, his "beloved" wife.

"Boy," she called her page, "Go find his majesty, her majesty, the Duke of York, the Dowager Queen, and the Princess Mary and tell them to come here. Tell them that I am dying, and that I demand my last rites be given to me here," Margaret commanded with surprising calmly before another cough tore through her, causing her to lie down on her beautiful ornate bed.

Within minutes, Arthur and Katherine had arrived, their elbows interlocked with each other. They both stood at the foot of her bed and neither of them looked sad to see her go.

Harry came next, with a look of distress about his face. Little did Margaret know, the look was not for his ailing grandmother, but at the smell of the death chamber.

Margaret was touched by Harry's seeming distress over her death, and could finally feel at peace with the way she had written her will.

Katherine and Arthur were fools if they think that she would be reconciled with them, even at death's door. Katherine needed to pay for her attitude towards Margaret, and Arthur for allowing his wife to act that way.

In her will, she had left Harry everything she ever owned.

Margaret, being one of the female heirs to the Lancastrians, had inherited a great deal from her father, including estates and money. Henry was her only child, since he was gone; Margaret left it to Harry, the child that she enjoyed the most. Maybe it was because Harry was too young to have ever displeased her as greatly as Arthur did in his first few months as King.

Harry already had inherited estates and money from his virtue of being the King's second son, and the rightful Duke of York, but with Margaret's donation, he would be one of the richest people in England, a serious rival for his brother. Despite the decision backtracking Henry's idea of a united England, Margaret didn't regret it one bit. It wouldn't hurt to bump her kingly grandson down a few notches by honoring his little brother.

Mary and Elizabeth shortly followed Harry. Elizabeth had no love lost on the count of Margaret's death, and Margaret didn't expect her too. It showed a lot about Elizabeth's' character that she had even come to pay respects to the dying woman, and for that Margaret was secretly impressed.

Despite Harry being her self-proclaimed heir, Margaret only addressed Arthur. "Arthur, Katherine, please listen to me. I may have not been the kindest woman in England, but King Henry knew me as the smartest. So listen to my advice, if you will. Don't go to war, and don't spend money you don't have. Be careful, please, and take care of all those who do you good. Finally, I ask for a funeral at Westminster and at least two hundred mourners. I demand you all wear black for a month and mourn me properly, because none of you can deny that I have done well for England."

And with that, Margaret Beaufort slipped away.

"Even in death, she doesn't look at peace," Katherine said after a few moments of silence, staring at the cold dark eyes of the woman who caused everyone in the room heartache.

"Two hundred mourners is an awful lot, more than Henry had," Elizabeth replied, disgusted at the way the old woman went out. No I love you's, nothing. Elizabeth felt a huge relief that Margaret was finally gone. No more control, she was finally free.

"We don't intend to agree to that amount, do we sweetheart?" Katherine asked, looking at Arthur who was transfixed at Margaret's will. "What is it Arthur?"

"She left Harry everything."

_Alright, a bit of a cliff-hanger (but not really) and a short chapter! I'm sorry guys. Next chapter there will be some action, and some stuff that will make Katherine/Arthur fans happy. I know this chapter wasn't very much, but it is setting up stuff. Until then, review! You are all amazing :)_


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Author's Note: **Welcome back! Alright, so I feel the need to personally apologize for the quality of last chapter. It was bad, but I am glad you all still liked it, it really means a lot that all my reviewers and such aren't "fair-weather" friends. I had a lot of family issues going on at the time, and I still wanted to get the update out for you guys, so point and case it was not my usual quality and I am sorry. This week is midterms for me (to make a long story short) but luckily I need not to worry about them so much , and since I have half days all week, I am able to get this out to you guys. I've been trying to make my updates pretty regular, but this one comes sooner than usual. So anyway, back to the story and away from my personal life haha.

The battle of Flodden has been tweaked for the purposes of this chapter (you didn't think I was going to write it out, did ya?) since Arthur isn't the same kind of king Henry VIII was at the time. I've messed around with the Scottish royal family. Also, for the purpose of this story, Thomas Howard will already be the Duke of Norfolk, not the Earl of Surrey. So all liberties taken I am responsible for and I am sorry if they offend anybody.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited the story so far and I hope you all continue to enjoy it! Without further ado, Chapter Eleven of King Arthur II (hopefully better than chapter ten)! Enjoy!

* * *

**Holyrood Palace**

**Southeastern Scotland**

September 1, 1513

The Queen of Scotland, Margaret Tudor, had been married to her husband for almost four years and yet he never ceased to surprise her.

Sometimes he could be the coldest man ever, like when she requested that she go out for a ride one summer morning and he had refused, citing that it was too dangerous for their unborn child. When Margaret argued that she could protect herself and the child, he chided her loudly in front of the French Ambassador who was visiting that week. Another time, she had asked that he not bring his illegitimate son around, as it upset her, and he told her that he was allowed to do as he pleased, as he was the King of Scotland.

Other times, he was the kindest man ever. He often brought her small trinkets and once she had asked him not to have any more affairs, he had agreed. Even though the age difference was wide, as she was only seventeen and he was forty one, their marriage had quickly turned into a love match, despite James' sometimes ill-temper.

On this particular day, she found it difficult to read her husband who was entertaining a lord from the most Southern part of the country. The words the man spoke were distressing but James did not appear ruffled by them. Margaret certainly was.

The man spoke of the tension between the Northern lords of England and the Southern lords of Scotland and to Margaret it seemed like the two areas were ready to engage in a war that threatened the livelihoods of both of the countries; her home and her inheritance. Margaret didn't want to be put in a position where she would have to choose between the country of her birth and the country that she had grown to love. She could never imagine leaving Scotland or James, but a part of her loved England still and loved her brother, who was now the King.

Later, the couple retired to dine privately, as they often did. Margaret hoped that James would speak of what was going on between England and Scotland, but as usual, James showed no hint of how he was feeling.

"How is our son?" James asked, referring to the only living child of Margaret and him, his little namesake. Margaret had taken control of the boy's household since birth, a rare treat for a Queen, and as a result was kept abreast of little James' progresses in the nursery.

"His nurse and governess say that he is a credit to us in every way," Margaret responded, unsure if she should to bring up what had happened earlier or let him do it himself. After a few moments of painful silence, she ventured. "What is going on between England and us?"

"Ask your brother, since you write to him so often. Tell me wife, are you an Englishwoman or a Scot as you claim to be? A true Queen of Scotland would not be worried about this, since it occurs every so often, but I think you are worried about it because the country you are loyal to is being harmed by this, more so than Scotland?" James asked fiercely, his eyes as cold as daggers as he accused his wife.

"You should know that I love this country with all my heart and so I worry for it. England is not a trifling element anymore, my father is dead now and Arthur may see to the military being built up with the mass amounts of money our father left him. I worry for us," Margaret defended, angry at James for presuming such a thing. While part of her was still loyal to England, she would never spy on James for Arthur and she never did for her father.

"Margaret, don't concern yourself with such things. I could crush your adolescent brother and his pompous wife with my thumb. All I worry for is those good loyal Scottish lords that are being hurt by the English. I am sending my own army to march in and crush Norfolk and Northumberland and all the others who are breaking the peace me and your father set up," James replied, not wanting to talk about this with Margaret. He loved his wife and the son she gave him, but he didn't want to share his plans with her in great detail. The attack was planned to be a surprise, one that would quietly go in and destroy Northern England, leaving it open for a Scottish evasion and if Margaret told Arthur, it could ruin everything.

Margaret's eyes went wide with fear. A war between Scotland and England would ruin everything, including her own personal happiness. She couldn't allow that with good conscience. "I can't let you do that. I love you and I am loyal to you in every way, but this spells trouble. You will break the treaty with my father!" Margaret lamely defended.

"Your father is dead and your brother is doing nothing to stop the attacks on our soil!" James exclaimed as he slammed his fist on the table for emphasis. He frowned when he saw Margaret flinch away from the table.

"If you will excuse me husband, I will retire alone to my chambers. I feel quite weary," Margaret replied haughtily. She excused herself and made a graceful curtsy to her husband, who was dumbfounded by his wife's calm reaction.

When Margaret reached her rooms, she was tempted to write to Arthur and Katherine, warning them of her husband's absurd plan but decided against it. James could try her for treason, and that she wasn't brave enough to face that. For now, she would have to pray that God would spare both of the countries, and the two arrogant Kings that ruled them.

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

September 5, 1513

It was always alarming for any monarch to hear that their country was under attack, but when the Duke of Norfolk told the newly coroneted King Arthur II that Scottish troops had been spotted just hours away from the English border, he looked more terrified than expected. Queen Katherine even had to steady him from her adjacent throne because it looked for a while that the young King was going to faint.

"Why?" was all Arthur could ask after a few moments of shocked silence. King Henry had warned Arthur before he had died that Scotland probably wouldn't hold true to their treaty, but Arthur didn't expect it to happen so soon. He was aware of some minor fighting between Northern England and Southern Scotland, but he didn't think it was anything that King James would react upon, nevertheless stage a full-fledged attack on England.

"Forgive me, your majesty, but it is my understanding that King James believes that you are weak since you are newly come to the throne and that now would be the time to break the peace that was set up between he and King Henry. I believe that he is using the minor fighting as an excuse to attack England and take it for Scotland, breaking the Treaty of Perpetual Peace that your royal father set up which included the marriage between James and Princess Margaret," Norfolk explained. He had been annoyed by the fighting, but he was surprised to hear about the approaching troops. King Arthur appeared to have a good head on his shoulders, despite his tender age, and would have never declared war on a country for no reason, but Norfolk hoped that he had good enough sense to defend the country.

"How far away are they?" Katherine asked, taking an interest in the events. She had learned a few things from her mother and father while living on the battlefield and she was aware that England had no standing army, but the nobility, despite the efforts made by the last King, had weapons and coin enough to form small militias. She also remembered one of the nights, when she was still the Princess of Wales, when Arthur had told her all about Scotland and the threat they posed to England. Now it was time for their knowledge of war to be exercised.

"About two days march till they reach the North, your majesty," Norfolk replied, impressed and apprehensive about the Queen's sudden question. No Queen before would have ever thought to ask a question like that. Norfolk couldn't help but notice the Queen flinch at his words, obviously shocked at the Scots speed.

"You have our permission to form and lead an army to fight them off, and the Queen and I will follow closely behind you and advise you. I would do it myself, but I have no heir and I can't risk that," Arthur explained, forgetting his younger brother for a moment. It was not uncommon for a King to advise a general to attack, and it would be foolish for him to march into battle himself. Richard III had done that and was killed by the troops fighting for his own father.

"It is my honor and pleasure, your majesty, to service you in any way," Norfolk replied. He proceeded to then bow to the King and Queen and excuse himself to fulfill the many tasks he had been given in a short period of time.

"Can we trust Norfolk?" Katherine asked Arthur once they had met with everyone and had retired to Arthur's chambers to dine.

"It is my belief that we can. His father had sided with King Richard III against my father, but you must remember that my father was a pretender at that point. It shows that their family has a loyalty to the crown," Arthur theorized. His father had executed the father of the current Duke of Norfolk because of his loyalty to Richard, but Arthur saw a good thing in Norfolk.

Katherine nodded as a means of response, too excited about the prospect of war. Surely, it could mean the ruin of countless lives and some land, but to Katherine it was worth it. For so long she had waited to prove herself to her family in both England and Spain, and with this absurd war against Scotland she could finally do it. Arthur had already decided that she was to come with him when they followed Norfolk to the battle, and Katherine was excited that she could be of use to these men in England, despite her sex. "When are we going to leave?" she asked.

"Tomorrow morning, when Norfolk does," he responded, too preoccupied to make a conversation. He had just come onto the throne and already God and Scotland were testing him to see if he could handle the burden he had inherited. King James obviously thought he was no more than a child, because he would have never done this if his father was still on the throne. Arthur intended to show all of Europe that he was not a feeble King, and that he wasn't about to lie down and surrender to Scotland.

Katherine sensed his distress and reached across the table to grasp his hand. Arthur gave her a weak smile, trying to hold back the cough rising in his throat. The afternoon had been a long one for him, and it had worn him out sooner than usual. "Excuse me sweetheart, I have to retire," Katherine opened her mouth to protest but Arthur reached across the table to silence her with a kiss before she could speak. "Goodnight."

"Husband, wait! Are you feeling unwell? Should I fetch a physician?" Katherine inquired. Katherine had been constantly concerned about Arthur's health since the early days of their marriage when Arthur caught the sweat and never fully recovered. Often times, when he would visit her at night, he would fall asleep right away, sometimes waking early enough for them to make love and sometimes he slept so late that Katherine would have to breakfast alone with her ladies, or with the whole court.

"No, I'm alright, I just need to sleep. Have a good night love and I will send someone to make sure you are awake before dawn tomorrow morning. We have a long day ahead of us," Arthur proclaimed, kissing Katherine one last time for good measure before leaving to go to sleep.

Once he had left, Katherine summoned Maria to her side. "Get me some parchment and something to write with. I have a few things I need to write down," she commanded, pleased with herself. She plans running through her head about how to defeat Scotland and couldn't wait until tomorrow morning where she could present her plans to Arthur and to Norfolk as well, who would both be impressed by her.

The only person that was missing was Margaret Beaufort. For an absurd moment, Katherine wished the woman who inflicted so much pain on her, Elizabeth, and Arthur could be alive for just a short moment. It would be the greatest victory in the world to see the look on her face when she realized that she had failed, even posthumously, to control Katherine of Aragon; Princess of Spain, Queen of England.

* * *

**Flodden Field**

**Northumberland **

September 9, 1513

"Your majesties!" The Duke of Norfolk's voice boomed through the tent Arthur and Katherine had temporarily set up their residence throughout the course of the battle. On this day, Katherine and Arthur's royal army of 25,000 strong, comprised of mostly men from the North, had marched to meet the Scottish forces that had appeared on the Northern most tip of England. Scotland had outnumbered them by about 5000 fighting men, but to the King and Queen that didn't matter. The confidence in their men and in Norfolk was never wavering.

"Yes?" Katherine asked, rising to greet the young Duke with her hand outstretched for him to kiss. His face was joyful and Katherine felt her heart skip a beat.

"You have defeated them! You two have done it, your majesties! The men hail you Great King Arthur and Good Queen Katherine! They have lost nearly half their men, and we have only lost a couple thousand. Scotland, and its King, are completely dead," Norfolk joyously announced, smiling when he noticed the brightness of Katherine's eyes and the surprise of Arthur.

"Oh my God, did you say King James is dead?" Arthur asked in a state of disbelief. He knew that opposed to what Arthur himself had done, James had ridden out into battle with his troops. Arthur and Katherine, together clad in shining sliver armor, had gone before the men before the battle and gave them an inspiring talk about English honor and the like. Afterwards, the two hung back in the tent they had set up, waiting anxiously for news of their victory or defeat. Arthur couldn't imagine risking his own life to go into battle, and admired James for it, no matter how much trouble he was causing them.

"Yes, your majesty, King James is dead and his infant son has been proclaimed King, along with Dowager Queen Margaret as Regent for the boy until he comes of age," Norfolk explained, hesitant at first to bring out James' bloody coat that he had received after the battle was over. Arthur had not reacted as he expected him too and he wasn't sure how he would react to the soiled coat.

Katherine, however, noticed that Norfolk was holding something in his hands behind his back. "What do you have, your grace?" she asked, curious.

"Forgive me, your majesty; I was unsure how his majesty would react. It is the former King James' coat, proof of his passing," Norfolk explained, presenting the coat in a flourish. Arthur took the coat and studied it closely, awed by it.

"Thank you, your grace, for the wonderful news you have brought us," Arthur managed after a few moments of resigned shock. All that was left of the King was his soiled coat. He did not intend to widow his sister in the process of defending his country, but he would make sure to it that Margaret did not need to worry about him taking advantage of the situation. War was a bloody sport, one that he saw sense in avoiding now that he had his glory.

"Your majesties," Norfolk replied, sensing the tone of dismissal in the King's voice so he bowed and took his leave, wanting to celebrate the wonderful victory.

"Oh Arthur, we have done it! All of England congratulates us! We have built a wonderful base here now, all we need now is to regain France and…" Katherine began but she was cut off.

"No, no more war. I see now that glory needs not to be attained by war. We should not start battles, we should only defend ourselves. Scotland can no longer defend because it has tried to defeat us. We will find other ways to be great, sweetheart, but not like this. My sister is a widow now, and that is too much of a burden on my conscience. She loved him, Katherine," Arthur explained, sitting down on the pallet that he had slept on for the past few nights and dropping his blonde head into his hands.

"Margaret loved him?" Katherine questioned. All the sudden, guilt rushed into her stomach and she clenched it lightly. She had not felt well for the past few days, but she hadn't felt this bad until the dust from Flodden began to affect her breathing and gave her stomach problems. Now, this guilt added onto her pains. She too had an arranged marriage that grew into a love match. She too loved a great King, and would be heartbroken if Arthur were to leave her. How could she be so heartless?

Arthur nodded and hugged Katherine tightly, and the two stayed like that until the night came and sleep overtook them.

When Norfolk and the rest of the royal party came the next morning to retrieve the King and Queen, they found them asleep in each other's arms, tears down both of their faces despite their glorious victory the day before.

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

September 20, 1513

Elizabeth of York, now the Dowager Queen of England, was the first person in England to be kind to her and yet Queen Katherine had not seen her privately since she had been coroneted. Sure, there were public meetings and well-wishes, but Katherine had been so pre-occupied with war and dealings with Arthur that she had little time to spare for the woman who had been so kind to her.

Katherine was grateful that Elizabeth was an amiable woman and would never reproach her for not visiting often, because Katherine honestly had no where else to turn when it came to things of the female nature. Katherine wasn't even sure if she would have been able to confide in her own mother about something as private as this, since Isabella was never one for sentiments or fear.

Katherine had a feeling Elizabeth would be in her rooms, but she felt an immense burden lift off her body when the lady who answered the door confirmed Katherine's hunch. She didn't know if she had the courage to come back again, and that made her feel foolish and weak. She had just helped command a war, a usual man's job, and yet she was afraid to speak to her own mother-in-law about something so common.

Katherine was never one for the female nature. She had befriended her brother Juan over her sisters in Spain and was so fond of her inerrant mother because of Isabella's masculine nature. She was more than just a lover to Arthur; she was a friend because in her own mind she thought more like a man than a woman.

So it was naturally surprising to Katherine when she missed her courses not once, but twice and began to vomit in the mornings and one of her ladies had timidly suggested she may be with child, not sick with some other aliment as Katherine originally believed. She felt joy, of course, since she knew an heir would make Arthur happy as well as herself, but she also felt fear. Nobody had ever told her anything about the mysteries of childbirth, and she was scared to find out.

"Your majesty, you look well," Elizabeth greeted Katherine as soon as she walked into her private chamber. She motioned for a servant to pour them two goblets of wine before dismissing all of them.

"As do you, your majesty," Katherine replied, smiling at the older woman. Elizabeth was beginning to slowly wear brighter colors and smile more often, but Henry's death had taken its toll. Elizabeth's face was still youthful, as she was not yet thirty, barely older than Katherine herself, but stress and seven pregnancies had made the beautiful Queen look older. Her strawberry blonde hair had a few strands of grey and her face had faint lines.

"What is it that you needed to talk to me about?" Elizabeth asked kindly, her blue eyes meeting Katherine's own in a gentle manner. Katherine had not told Elizabeth that she had come for any specific reason, but she was grateful to her mother-in-law for offering up a suggestion.

"What are the signs that a woman, err, that a woman is with child?" Katherine asked, still apprehensive.

Elizabeth studied Katherine for a few moments, unsure if the question was pertaining to her or not. Katherine looked well, not pale or ill, so if she was showing signs of being pregnant Elizabeth had to assume it was the case. She whimsically remembered when she found out she was pregnant with Arthur and how scared she was about the whole thing. At the time, her own mother had still been at court and helped her along the way, so Elizabeth had to assume that Katherine felt similar to the way she did at first, and was all too eager to act as a mother to her beloved daughter-in-law. "Well, when I was pregnant with Arthur, I felt ill in the mornings, I took rest more often because the baby wore me out, and I had a furious craving for certain foods," Elizabeth explained.

"Well, then I am probably with child then," Katherine announced, fear rising in her chest. She paused for a moment, wondering how far Elizabeth's kindness reached before she began. "Does it hurt to give birth?" Katherine asked, already feeling foolish. She was so clueless about these things! She felt her checks turn a violent red and heat up from embarrassment.

"Very much, but you forget about the pain when you hold your child in your arms. Don't be scared, Arthur will be so pleased, boy or girl," Elizabeth added, knowing that Henry would have scolded her if Arthur were not the firstborn and Margaret was instead, and that Katherine was lucky that Arthur would never treat his beloved wife so coldly.

Katherine nodded, eager to change the subject. She would tell Arthur soon, after she had a physician confirm it, but for now she was more concerned about another matter, little Harry. Margaret Beaufort had proved to be very rich and spiteful, a deadly combination for her and Arthur. "Do you know how the Duke of York plans to use his money that My Lady the King's Grandmother left him?" Katherine asked casually, as if she was more interested in her little brother-in-law's future than her own.

"Harry isn't sure yet, so he asked me to the keep the money for him until he comes of age. I'm hoping he just forfeits to the crown when he enters the church, for all those estates and all that money will do him no good once he enters the clergy," Elizabeth explained. She was just as shocked as everybody else when Harry received his grandmother's inheritance, but she was glad to know that her son exercised some sensibility.

"I hope so. You and King Henry worked so hard to secure the line for Arthur's children; it would be a shame if Harry turns out to be a rival for his brother," Katherine slyly suggested, fresh anger bursting in her head, although she hid it well with a smile. Margaret Beaufort was such a fool if she thought that Katherine was the biggest threat to her precious Tudor line, while all this time she had created the biggest threat!

"Harry is a good boy; he wouldn't do something like that. Besides, you are pregnant now and the child you will have will inherit a peaceful country a long time from now. I have no doubts on that score," Elizabeth complimented, patting Katherine's hand. She could understand Katherine's fears, but she believed they were unfounded. Harry was a clever boy, but he wasn't clever enough to form a rival faction for his brother, so Elizabeth believed.

"I am sure you are right," Katherine conceded, and prayed that Elizabeth would prove to be right.

Katherine couldn't afford it if she was wrong.

_Alright, so I am sorry to everyone who was hoping for a battle scene, no can do :/ However, I hope this chapter was exciting and keeps you guys on the edge of your seat. I also hope it was not as poorly written as the last one, even though it may be just as short. Next chapter may or may not include a time jump, I am not sure, but in the meantime review and I will see you all soon!_


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Author's Note: **Welcome back my loves :) I meant to update sooner, but I got the flu :/ Last time I updated, I hit over the 100 mark in reviews, which made me feel all sorts of good inside so thank you all so much! Also for all those who have been reading, alerting, and favoriting, you are all so amazing! Moving on…

Just a reminder that this story is AU, so all the liberties taken are with full knowledge. I'm sorry if they get ridiculous, but I swear it will all come together in the end. All characters are history's and _Showtime_'s.

Without further ado, chapter twelve! Don't forget to review and enjoy :)

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

September 31, 1513

Katherine had never felt so nervous in her twenty one years of life. After Elizabeth of York told her that it was most likely that she was carrying Arthur's child, Katherine had waited out of fear to confirm those beliefs officially with a midwife or physician. She had contented herself with needlework often, making shirts for Arthur who was always very pleased when he received them and also on occasion she attended Privy Council meetings alongside her husband. The idea of calling a midwife to check her for signs of pregnancy had not occurred to her until she began to vomit more often in the mornings and could not keep her breakfast down.

"Well?" Katherine asked impatiently, staring at the nervous midwife who was clearly over-awed to be serving the Queen so closely. The sharpness of Katherine's own voice frightened her. Usually she was kind to all of her servants and subjects, but on this day she had grown impatient and fitful with nerves.

"Your majesty I can tell you certainly that you are with child, and have been for two months now," the girl replied with a pleased grin at Katherine, revealing her stained and missing teeth.

"Thank you very much," Katherine replied, forcing a smile that did not reach her eyes while placing a gracious amount of gold coins into the midwife's hands.

"May I suggest, your majesty, that you take up rest often and that you eat well, since it is your first time. Asparagus has been known to make boys, so his majesty should probably request that be included in every meal. Also, if you feel weak, do not be afraid to absent yourself from your daily activities until you feel rested again," the midwife advised before curtsying at the signal of Katherine's other simpered thanks and the wave of her hand, the cue of her dismissal.

As soon as the midwife left, her ladies clucked around her, offering their heartfelt congratulations and their coos of worries for her physical condition. Katherine wished that she could share their joy and hope for her own condition, but all she could feel was worry despite her outward smile and exclamations of joy.

"You should go and tell the King," Maria sensiably suggested, sensing that Katherine needed a respite from the joyous celebrations happening her apartments. Maria could tell that her mistress, whom she had known from childhood, was trying to hold back frustration at the rest of her ladies and trying to make sense of the whole thing. Of course, she knew that her mistress held a great deal of joy as well, but that it was smothered with fear of the unknown and what she was showing outwardly was not what she was truly feeling. She was not raised to show her feelings outwardly, at least not around others, and Maria could tell when Katherine needed a break.

"Your right, I should," Katherine replied quietly. "Come with me," Katherine commanded softly to Maria with a light smile, as much as she could muster. She had never felt such great fear in her whole entire life and for once she needed somebody by her side. She was almost certain that Arthur would greet the news as joyous, but that wasn't what she was worried about. It was the whole shroud of mystery, the anticipation of a miscarriage or stillbirth, and of course, the dreaded sex of the child. It was enough to will Katherine away from her primary duty as Queen, and if it were not so important to the future of her inherited country, she would have rather not gone through with it.

"Be strong Catalina," Maria replied quietly in Castilian and was happy when Katherine did not scold her for doing such. When the old King was still alive, along with his hawk of a mother, Katherine was very careful not to anger them by speaking in Spanish or requesting that her servants use her native name. She was an English Princess after all, even if it was by marriage, so in those days Maria was very careful not to let any words from her native land slip and dropped her accent quickly. Now, Katherine was the Queen at last, and was able to do as she pleased because of her great influence over her husband, and Maria felt just as free as Katherine did.

"Thank you, come now, lets go," Katherine replied back in Castilian, feeling strange but oddly contented when she used her old language. It brought back pleasant memories of her mother, giving her the strength she needed to tell her husband about her condition and to continue in the next seven months or so to be strong for the child and herself.

When she was a little girl growing up in Spain, her mother had sheltered her in fear that her youngest daughter would turn like her older sisters had. Katherine could remember days when her mother, in a rare moment of affection, had held her on her lap and told her stories and legends that amused the then little Princess. One of the stories was very serious; Katherine could still remember the grave tone of voice her beloved mother had adopted when she told it.

It was the story of a woman, a Queen who was in all ways equal to her husband. They had fought for years against the evil Moors, bad men who had threatened the whole of Christendom. On the way, the woman had given birth to many children in tents while they were waging war, and the next morning she would saddle her horse and ride out to the battlefield as if she had not given the birth the day before. Many times, the great Queen miscarried, but one time she was successful. Although the Queen was saddened by these events, she knew it was necessary to sacrifice at times in order to do God's work.

Katherine remembered then what followed afterwards, another story that was just as serious as the previous one. It was the story of a young princess, a girl who was born into the greatest royal house that ever existed. Her mother doted on her and favored her above all others and secured her a fine marriage, one that would make her the Queen of England someday. When this little princess grew up and went to England, the whole country was in awe of her. When she became Queen, unlike the woman who had given birth in tents, she gave birth to her children in a grand state bed surrounded by midwives and her trusted servants. During her life, the Queen had many children and was able to do so because she lived a pampered lifestyle and was never threatened by miscarriages because she was always careful, and most importantly, because she trusted in God while she was going through the pains of childbirth.

It took Katherine a few years to realize that the first story was the story of her brave mother who, while in the midst of battle, stopped to give birth periodically and the next morning ride out as if it had never happened. Katherine soon realized upon her arrival in England that the second story was about her. Her mother warned Katherine from an early age that multiple miscarriages would not be tolerated, especially since she would be given the best of care. Most importantly, Katherine discovered, her mother gave her strength to carry on through the fear and pain of childbirth.

If her mother, the great Queen Isabella, told her to be strong and have faith, she would have to.

She held out a hand to pause Maria had the foot of Arthur's door, motioning her to wait outside his apartments while she discussed things with him. Putting on her best face of bravery, the one her mother taught her, she faced her husband and vowed silently to herself that she would face this challenge like any other, with strength and without fear.

* * *

December 12, 1513

Harry had not been happy for the last few days, and was looking forward to his old tutor's visit to brighten his week.

Arthur had found a replacement tutor at last, a man named Sir Thomas More, newly knighted by his brother. More was a great humanist and held a great deal of integrity and intelligence. Harry was fond of him, of course, since he enjoyed learning, but More was nothing like Thomas was. For one thing, he never praised Harry the way Thomas used to, in fact, he even criticized him! Harry was not used to such harsh treatment, but with hindsight he could see that all More was trying to do was make him better, and that was the way that he sought to do it. It wasn't like he was rude or anything, he always deferred to Harry with an escalated level of respect. Harry respected that as much as it irked him to be corrected.

More was also far more serious than Thomas was. He refused to address Harry by his Christian name, instead always referring to him as "your grace," or "my lord." Harry was able to get used to it, and even didn't mind calling Sir Thomas by his proper title, but he missed the informal days when Thomas was his tutor. Charles even missed Thomas, even though Charles didn't take his studies nearly as seriously as Harry did.

However much the boys missed their old tutor, they were able to quickly warm up to More, Harry reflected. More was a good man, an honest man. After Thomas stopped tutoring him, Harry found out from Charles that he was a dishonest churchman, taking mistresses and had even sired two bastard children!

More was all the good in the world, even if he didn't praise him as much as Thomas once did, and Harry learned to value his opinion.

This week, however, More had taken a break from tutoring his pupils to go to his home in Chelsea to see his wife and his young children and Harry had been constantly bored. The weather was not suitable to ride or play at bowls or anything fun like that, so he had been stuck inside his boring old apartments with only Charles as a companion, as William Compton and Anthony Knivert were only seldom able to slip away to visit their friends.

As well as that, the Queen was five months pregnant. The new Prince or Princess of England was due in the summer. For four more months, Harry was heir to the throne, and then it would be no more. An heir guaranteed that no matter what, he would be a clergyman by the time he was eighteen.

It just wasn't fair! All that money and property his grandmother gave him would be nothing once he became a churchman, and since he was so young now, he had heeded to his mother's advice not to use it until he was older. By then, it would be too late, but there was nothing Harry could do it about it.

"Your grace, his eminence Cardinal Wolsey is here to see you," a livered servant announced, excusing himself when Harry bided his old tutor to come in.

"How are you Harry? How are your lessons with Sir Thomas progressing?" Thomas asked, sitting himself across from his former pupil. If he had a choice, he would have continued to tutor Harry, as he was fond of his young charge, but he had no choice but stop. The new King requested him join Council and act as an advisor to him in matters concerning the church, so he had little time to tutor the young boy.

"Sir Thomas is a fine tutor, though I miss you and your insight, Thomas. However, I am distressed for multiple reasons, one being the Queen's current condition and the second being that I cannot touch my inheritance from my grandmother," Harry explained with a sour look on his youthful face.

"The money perhaps you cannot touch yet, but there are other things that come with that inheritance. You are My Lady the King's Grandmother's sole heir, meaning that you have rights to the duchy of Somerset and the earldom of Kendal. If I were you, my young Duke, I would petition his majesty for those titles," Thomas advised shrewdly. He knew that Harry was an intelligent boy, a boy that would be ill-suited for the church. Building him up to become a rival to his older brother wasn't the smartest move, and was contrary to what King Henry wanted. However, Thomas owed a strange sense of obedience to his former pupil, and intended to aide him in any way possible.

"Wow, that's incredible! I shall write to my brother now with your help, of course," Harry exclaimed, gladly picking up parchment, quills, and ink in order to write the letter. Thomas just smiled as Harry eloquently, with a command of language no other ten year old possessed, wrote a letter to his brother beseeching him kindly to give him the rightful titles.

It was all Thomas could do to make it up to Harry.

* * *

Arthur always knew his grandmother was tricky, but he never would have believed that she were this sly.

Young Harry, by his own mysterious volition, requested to be invested with the titles Duke of Somerset and Earl of Kendal, titles that were his by right from the Beaufort inheritance. Arthur couldn't imagine that somebody would inform Harry of this development, especially since nobody was very fond of his shrewd grandmother. Arthur believed that Harry had found out about the titles through questioning, even though he was only a ten year old boy.

Although the titles would make him the richest and most powerful peer in England, Arthur didn't see the harm in giving them to him. He was only a boy after all, and in any case he would be going into the church as soon as he and Katherine had created a nursery full of fine children. It would look bad if he were to withhold those titles from his brother, who was innocent enough in asking for them.

Arthur intended to be a just ruler and he figured that this was the first step.

Arthur glanced next to him, feeling strange without Katherine beside him on the adjacent throne. In the first few months of their reign, Katherine advised him in every decision that he made. Arthur saw her as being one of the shrewdest minds in the kingdom and he was pleased that she was his Queen. However, the last few weeks had seen a decline in Katherine's appearances at his meetings and at important ceremonies, like the one that was about to happen which ennobled his brother. Although it was hard for him to be separated from her, he took comfort in that fact that she was taking rest more often for the good of her and the child. It was her first pregnancy, after all, and he knew that it would only be an uphill battle.

Arthur's eyes shifted from Katherine's vacated throne to the back, where he heard the flourish that accompanied young Harry, hearing the cries to make way for Henry, Duke of York.

Arthur smiled at his solemn young brother, who had clearly been reminded how to act by their mother at formal occasions like this. Harry briefly returned the smile before kneeling before his brother, waiting to hear the words that raised him up in his own right, not just as his virtue as a King's second son.

Unbidden, the memory of when Harry was ennobled for the first time, when he was only three years old, flashed through his mind. He could still remember the look on his father's stony face and the hardness in his grey eyes. Unlike Arthur, his father never smiled at him and made little Harry feel like he was doing something wrong. He could still remember how heavy the fur of ermine felt on his small frame and how uneasy it felt to walk through the crowds of people whose eyes were transfixed on him.

This time, he intended to do better.

"Henry, Duke of York, you are today, by order of his majesty King Arthur the second, created the Duke of Somerset and the Earl of Kendal," Arthur's secretary announced.

"Arise your grace," Arthur commanded lightly, smiling once again at Harry as the fur of ermine was pulled around his bulky shoulders and when the coronet of a Duke was placed on his head.

The look on Harry's face was priceless as he walked into the Great hall, where Arthur had spent a great deal of money on a banquet for his brother. Although the two boys had their differences in the past, Arthur felt right in investing Harry with these titles. He trusted his brother enough not to raise an army or a faction against him, and Arthur knew how Harry felt about entering the clergy. He took some pity on the boy, knowing that he would feel the same way if he were in Harry's position. Harry had his whole life ahead of him and no boy as full of life as Harry was wanted to enter the church.

Harry sat next to Arthur on the dais along with the Dowager Queen and the Princess Mary, who at six years old was fond of banquets, as they gave her an excuse to wear all of her fine gowns and jewelry.

"Where is the Queen?" Elizabeth asked, noting Katherine's rare absence. "I would have thought she would have planned this whole thing."

"Katherine isn't feeling well; she's had a rough week. I didn't even get a chance to tell her about all this," Arthur explained. Although the news that she was pregnant was a relief and a joy to Arthur, he knew how difficult the next few months would be for her, and he wished that she didn't have to go through all the discomfort and pain of the whole ordeal. "Excuse me mother, I am going to speak to a few people," Arthur explained, kissing his mother on the check and ruffling Mary and Harry's hair before leaving the dais.

"Mama, what's wrong with the Queen?" Mary asked, her blue eyes wide with terror at the thought of her beloved sister-in-law being sick. Katherine was really nice and always played fun games with her when she was around, games that Margaret used to play before she went to Scotland.

"Nothing sweetheart, her majesty is just big with child and that makes her unwell. Remember, we talked about this," Elizabeth chided the curious girl mildly. Mary was a sweet girl, so full of questions and Elizabeth enjoyed spending time with her and was glad she was allowed to do so now that her evil mother-in-law was dead. She often spent her days in Mary's nursery and was able to for once spend some time raising one of her children and teaching her the things that Arthur, Margaret, and Harry learned from their governesses. While Mary still had a governess, the woman played less of a role since Elizabeth was around more, a rare treat for a Queen, even a former one, as Arthur would never cruelly separate mother and daughter.

"How do you like all this Harry?" Elizabeth asked, smiling at her younger son. Harry had been complaining to her since his grandmother died about how he wasn't allowed to touch the inheritance, and Elizabeth honestly had no solution to his problems. She was somewhat grateful that Wolsey found a way to pacify Harry, at least just a little bit.

"The King is very kind to go to all these lengths just for me," Harry beamed with all the admiration of a younger sibling. Usually, he thought himself better than Arthur but today he was so caught up in all the pomp for him that he had no time to worry about why he wasn't the King over Arthur.

"Harry come here, I want you to meet someone," Arthur called from across the room to his brother, waving a hand.

Harry excused himself and made his way over to Arthur. "Your majesty," Harry greeted, sweeping into a well practiced bow.

"Do you remember that one day when you were playing in the garden with Charles Brandon with a certain girl, Anne Boleyn?" Arthur asked, wrapping a paternal arm around Harry's shoulder, pulling him close so he was forced to look at the man standing before the King. The man before him looked somewhat familiar, but Harry couldn't put a name to the face.

Harry's checks flushed bright red at recollection of the day where he had made a fool out of himself attempting to save the pretty girl before Arthur did it for him. "Yes I do remember, why do you ask your majesty?" Harry asked through gritted teeth, although his tone was outwardly polite and sweet as honey.

"This is Sir Thomas Boleyn, Anne's father, one of my ambassadors. Sir Thomas, may I present my brother yet again, his grace the Duke of York and Somerset?" Arthur said with mirth, his blue eyes lighting up with amusement. Arthur rarely drank wine, unless it was on occasions like this, and it made him feel loose and alive, free from the chains of his physical weakness.

"It is a pleasure, your grace," Boleyn replied, kissing the chubby hand outstretched before him and bowing before the young boy.

"Go on ahead and sit back down Harry, that's all," Arthur dismissed the boy as quickly as he called him, as he had other business to discuss with Boleyn. Arthur watched as Harry as gracefully as his anger allowed, stomp away back to the dais, where he could see him sit down next to their mother with his arms crossed. It was a mercy to Arthur that Harry could at least hold his tongue until he went somewhere privately. "Shall we take in private then?" Arthur asked, leading Boleyn into his privy chamber.

"What is it your majesty wanted to see me about?" Boleyn asked after Arthur had given him a goblet of wine and seated him across from his own chair. For three years, he had held his position in the Netherlands well, and only recently was he recalled back to England for reasons he was unaware of. Both of his daughters were getting a well-rounded education, even Anne who was too young to officially be part of a household, who was simply a companion to the Habsburg children. It was a great honor for his children and he didn't wish to see it go away.

"While I do not wish to go to war, by any means, I wish to get into some trade negotiations with France. The position of ambassador is currently vacated. Since you are one of the few diplomats available to me that speak French, I figure if you want it, it's yours," Arthur offered, knowing that he had little options if Boleyn refused, which is why he phrased it as a request, not a command.

"Why your majesty, that is a very generous offer," Boleyn replied, blown away by the attitude of this King compared to his father.

"I need you in France Sir Thomas," Arthur bluntly stated, knowing it was the truth.

"If it is your majesty's wish, that I am all too happy to comply," Boleyn replied with a smile, knowing that the offer was generous. France had a better royal court anyway, one where his daughters would hopefully pick up a thing or two, but he hoped it wouldn't be anything bad, knowing that although it was a place for artisans, it also had a reputation for loose morals.

"This news pleases me, thank you very much. How are your children? Especially little Anne? Not getting falling into any more puddles, is she?" Arthur asked with a laugh, remember fondly on the day where the small girl allowed him to prove to his father, wife, brother, and grandmother that he wasn't a child anymore.

Boleyn smiled, shocked by how well the King remembered and how much he actually cared. Most Kings would have never asked such personal questions about one of his most humble ambassadors. "Anne is doing well; her tutors tell me that she is very clever for her age, long since outgrowing the elementary lessons given to her, and even knows a little French and Latin, which should be useful to her in her future. Mary, my oldest, is very pretty though not quite as clever as her sister. George is very athletic and handsome, along with clever in languages."

"You are very fortunate to have three blessed children, Sir Thomas. When they are older, perhaps they can come to court to serve me and the Queen, and whatever children we may have," Arthur replied wistfully, fondly thinking of the big family he hoped to have with Katherine now that he knew that they were able.

"I pray that you and the Queen have many princes, your majesty," Boleyn replied heartily, knowing that the new dynasty needed to be secured with the child in the Queen's belly.

"Thank you Sir Thomas. Enjoy the rest of the banquet," Arthur said, the tone of dismissal clear in voice. He nodded in acknowledge of Boleyn's bow and decided that he would retire early, knowing that he embarrassed Harry earlier and figured that he would allow Harry to have the rest of the night as the center of attention. He quietly slipped through his doors and allowed his grooms to dress him in his nightdress and robe and he went unattended to Katherine's room, which reminded him fondly of the days at Ludlow when they used to sneak through the staircase to see each other before Margaret Beaufort put a stop to it.

"You weren't going to tell me, were you?" Katherine asked as soon as he entered, brushing away his offer at a kiss and offered him her check instead, the hurt clear in her voice.

"What are you talking about sweetheart?" Arthur asked, confused.

"You ennobled Harry with the inheritance that bitch gave him, didn't you?!" Katherine screamed, rising up from her chair in anger and stared dead on at her husband. She had slept for the majority of the day, as she had been doing for the past month, as the baby grew in her womb. When she woke up, Maria told her that there was noise coming from the Great Hall and when she went to exam it, she found a banquet being held in Harry's honor.

"Shh, calm down. Yes, I did, I didn't think it was that big of a deal, he's ten! Besides, all is set for him to go into the church when this little guy in here is born," Arthur soothed, gently placing his hand on Katherine's swollen belly.

"Arthur! Don't you see, Harry is a threat to us! He might not be right now, because of his age, but he will grow up and become a very powerful and wealthy man and very powerful and wealthy men attract very powerful brides!" Katherine shrilly exclaimed, slapping Arthur's check in anger.

"Calm yourself, it's not good for the baby," Arthur replied, grabbing her shoulders in an attempt to soothe her.

"Owww!" Katherine exclaimed, clutching her stomach and dropping to the floor.

"Oh God, somebody fetch Linacre!" Arthur commanded, settling Katherine onto a chair. "This is all my fault," he muttered, trying to calm the now screaming Katherine.

If she lost the baby, he would never forgive himself.

* * *

"The child had the appearance of a male, about five months old. Even if the Queen did not miscarry the child, it did not look like it would have survived. It looked like it had died already, maybe at about four months, and the Queen said it stopped kicking about a week ago," Linacre explained to the disheartened young King. He had his qualms about the pregnancy when the Queen said it stopped kicking, but Linacre did not want to scare her in case the child really still lived.

"What now?" Arthur asked, looking up, trying to hide the tears threatening to fall. At least the child had no hope, so their argument did not cause their child's death, but that did not make accepting the death any easier.

"The Queen lost a lot of blood, and it would be best for her to rest for at least a week, absenting herself from court. Then in perhaps six months, you can try again. You are both very young, and I have no doubt that you will conceive again in the wake of this tragedy," Linacre suggested, knowing how important it was for the Queen to gain her strength back before she gave birth again. It would do them no good for her to fail again; it may even cost her own life.

"Thank you doctor," Arthur replied, dismissing the man so he could go see his wife.

When he entered, all the ladies curtsied to him but there was a lack of love and more scorn than before in their eyes, as if he caused this! Their baby's death was just waiting to happen, it just choose that time to happen. Most of the ladies, however, had little time to spare to scrutinize their King, as they were washing the bloodied linen from the bed and Katherine's soiled nightgown.

"Hello sweetheart," Arthur began cautiously, approaching her bed carefully.

"I'm not angry with you. Linacre said it was going to happen anyway. I'm sorry too, we will have to talk more civilly tomorrow about Harry…" she was cut off.

"No, we won't talk about it tomorrow, not until you are well again. We will make this work; we won't have to worry about Harry because we'll have so many heirs," Arthur cheerfully predicted, holding her pale hand with a weak grip.

Katherine smiled back, hoping that he was right. If he, and his mother who said the same thing, were wrong, they would have all destroyed everything that she and Arthur were prepared to work for.

_Dum dum! Next chapter will include a jump years, I swear (I keep playing around with the idea but it's happening next). Tell me what you think. Reviews are always welcome :) Until next time…_


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Author's Note: **Welcome back everyone! Thanks to everyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited last chapter, the amount of support I've been getting on this story has been staggering and I appreciate all of it! Please remember that this story is AU, and all liberties are taken with full knowledge of actual events. I do quite a few things in here that are less than accurate. Also, please note the time jump at the beginning of the chapter.

Without further ado, the thirteenth chapter of King Arthur II! Enjoy!

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

July 25, 1516

"Come on your majesty, just one more push!" Maria shouted from her long-time mistress' side over the fuss happening over the Queen's first birth. Katherine's long black hair was matted onto her forehead due to the heat of the English summer and the roaring fireplace that the chief midwife insisted on having. Maria was frightened that Katherine would faint, which would not go well for the child that she was trying to bring into the world. God knew that Katherine and Arthur had tried so hard to get a living child, and Maria wasn't about to allow Katherine to faint on her.

"The head is crowning your majesty!" the midwife exclaimed to Katherine's immense relief. Katherine never imagined the pain to be so great when she gave birth to a child, and the pain was overshadowing her joy over the fact that she had carried a child to term after three failed pregnancies.

Arthur had been so kind to her, Katherine reflected. After the first failed one three years ago, Katherine had fallen pregnant twice afterwards and miscarried another boy and a girl. Arthur never reproached her or made a comment about her failures, although Katherine was beside herself with shame and grief. The midwives and doctors were puzzled as to why Katherine would miscarry right around the fifth month every time, as they assured Arthur she was a healthy woman without any health defects. Arthur and she enjoyed normal martial relations, although it was not every night.

Nobody ever checked Arthur for any health hindrances concerning pregnancy, and they were both realistic enough to wonder if he may be the reason for the miscarriages. He was never healthy since his run-in with the sweat all those years ago, and the young couple still had trouble making love on a regular basis. The burden of kingship did nothing to cure his weaknesses either, as he was preoccupied with matters of state, which made him tired often. His cough never went away and his skin was a sickly pale more often than not.

Katherine's thoughts were drowned by her own scream when she expelled the burden she had been carrying around for about nine months out of her belly and into the world. The midwife gave it a sharp slap to the buttocks so the child would emit a cry, signifying it was alive. To everyone's relief, the child let out a weak cry.

"What is it?!" Katherine asked frantically, alarmed that nobody had told her the sex of the child yet. The Tudors were still a new royal family, and Katherine was aware that Arthur needed a male heir to carry on the family name and inherit the kingdom. A daughter would do nothing, not without a brother.

"Your majesty, say hello to England's new Princess," the midwife optimistically replied, aware that although Katherine may not be pleased at the prospect of a daughter, she would be pleased at the idea that she was mother to a royal child and every person in England knew that the Queen's fertility needed to be proven, and a daughter was better than a stillborn.

Katherine's exhaustion kicked in at the news, causing her to cry and hold her arms out, signifying that she wished to hold the newborn. It may be a daughter, but it was still her child.

The midwife gave an apprehensive look to Maria, unsure if Katherine could handle holding much of anything. "Your majesty, you need to be changed into a clean nightgown before you can hold her, and the linens need to be changed. Then you may hold her," Maria suggested lightly, singling that the other ladies should begin the tasks she just described as she snuck at look at the baby. She was tiny, Maria thought, but not unnaturally so. She came a few weeks early, but the midwives assured Katherine that it would not harm the child to be born a few weeks ahead of time.

Katherine grudgingly conceded to Maria's suggestions, settling herself down and allowing Maria to braid her long black hair into one piece, so it wouldn't be in her face. After that, Linacre administered a tonic to dull her pain and her ladies positioned her so that pillows were underneath her back to support her. "I want to hold my daughter now!" Katherine exclaimed, indigent that she had yet to even see her new daughter.

"Be careful your majesty," the midwife cautioned as she passed the warm bundle into Katherine's waiting arms. The baby let out a series of gurgles after that and Katherine could have sworn she saw her daughter smile up at her.

"She's beautiful," Katherine whispered in awe, scared to touch the child in case she shattered, since she couldn't believe something so small could really survive outside of her womb.

"What will you name her?" Maria asked, smiling down at her mistress and her daughter.

"I don't know, I want to wait until the King comes to see her before I name her," Katherine decided. She would feel guilty if she picked a name and Arthur went along with it, even if he truly did not like it. They had only discussed names for boys, because both of them didn't want to curse themselves by even discussing the possibility of a girl. She was aware that Arthur wouldn't be mad or even the least bit disappointed, but that didn't mean she wasn't. She loved the child, even though she was a girl, but that didn't mean that she feared what was to happen next.

Maria nodded, thinking it was a good idea. She was sure that Katherine would propose a Spanish name, like Isabella, after her mother, but Arthur would probably propose Margaret or Elizabeth, good English names that his mother and grandmother had. "Has the King been told?" Maria whispered to the midwife.

"No, does the Queen wish for him to hear?" the midwife asked stupidly.

"Yes, you fool!" Maria exclaimed, angered. Maria was sure her mistress was anxious to see her husband, and was probably very worried that he had not come down yet.

The midwife nodded and hastened to go and find someone to get the King, feeling a little scared over Mistress Salinas's admonition. Everyone knew that she was the Queen's most loyal ladies, and that she was very protective over the Queen, having slapped a few women before who had acted foolishly regarding the Queen.

Moments later, Arthur entered, anxiously running to Katherine's bedside. "My sweetheart! I'm so proud of you," Arthur exclaimed, kissing Katherine's forehead and looking down at his new daughter.

"Isn't it incredible that we made this little girl?" Katherine asked with a wide smile, her former feelings of disappointment disappearing as soon as she saw the way her husband looked at their daughter. It was a long journey that they took to make this child, one that even involved two long-dead people who coldly believed that they couldn't do it, and Katherine was very pleased that they had achieved what some people believed was impossible.

"Yes, it really is, she's beautiful my love. Have you named her?" Arthur asked, thinking that he would be pleased with any name Katherine picked out.

"No, I thought we could do it together. Is there a name you'd like?" Katherine asked, passing the child over to Arthur so he could get a good look at her. Katherine had heard some mothers describe how they just knew what their child was going to be named once they looked at them, so she figured it would make more suggestions come into Arthur's mind if he could see her.

Arthur figured that Margaret would be the natural choice, and probably the only choice if his daughter had been born while his father was still King. Although his grandmother was cold in her grave, he couldn't help but still feel those hawk-eyes staring at him at this very moment, disappointed over Katherine's "failure" and expecting that at the very least the worthless Princess be named after her. However, Arthur didn't like the idea of his innocent daughter being named after a woman who caused him and his wife so much pain, so he discredited that possibility.

"What about Elizabeth, for your mother?" Katherine suggested, liking the idea of their daughter being named after a woman who had been very kind to both of them, and was a model Queen and Princess throughout her lifetime. However, Katherine remembered Elizabeth's submissiveness throughout her husband's reign and the way she simply stepped back and allowed Margaret Beaufort to control her. Katherine didn't want her daughter to have that sort of connotation and upbringing; she wanted this child to be strong like her and her mother.

Arthur, as if he could read her thoughts, shook his head. He was going to propose Isabella, but then thought against it. He would love to honor his daughter's maternal grandmother, but didn't want his firstborn to carry anything less than an English name. "What about Mary? It's a good name, one that brings up fond memories of Christ's mother and my innocent sister," Arthur suggested, thinking it was a neutral name and a name he'd like his daughter to be called.

"Princess Mary, it suits her," Katherine agreed, smiling down at her daughter.

It had a ring to it.

Isabella, Katherine, Mary; three generations of strong women. She finally did it.

* * *

July 30, 1516

Henry was bored, more bored than he had ever been in his life. Even the days when he didn't have a tutor were more fun than this.

He was thirteen now, big enough to be without a governess and big enough to stop calling his mother "mama" although that wasn't fun to him. He was old enough to ride by himself and hunt with Charles, and he was old enough to drop the name "Harry" and be called Henry now, though Henry to him was still his father's name and nobody else's.

Today his newborn niece was being christened, the heir that would replace him. He had visited her the day before, and he had to admit that she was charming and shared good qualities from both of her parents. Her eyes were light blue like Katherine's, even though most child's were her eyes were a deep blue so it was likely the color would hold, but her hair was the Tudor red-blonde.

Henry was able to fall in love with her right away because she wasn't a threat to him. She was just a girl after all, and nobody took a girl as a serious threat. He was becoming a man, next year he would officially be fourteen, and she was just a baby girl. If something were to happen to Arthur, which he didn't hope but his brother was never a strong one; he still had hope. If Katherine was to give birth to a son, which she could, Henry admitted, since she was still young and had proved that she was capable because of Mary, then his chances of becoming King died.

He loathed that day that it was to happen.

For now, he was safe. Mary was a girl, a premature and small girl, but a boy would make him next to nothing. His father made sure of that, his stupid dead father still cursed him from the grave.

Henry stared at the current Archbishop of Canterbury, who was pouring water over little Mary's head and saying prayers in Latin to renounce the devil from her soul and smiling when Mary cried, symbolizing that the devil had left her. Henry pondered the day when he would take the old man's place and preside over the christening of his rivals. He didn't like to think about it, so his attention shifted to his sister Mary, only nine years old, who held a smile the whole time and was impressed with the pageantry that accompanied the baby's welcome into the world.

His mother then took her granddaughter into her arms and kissed her downy head. Although Arthur had not chosen to name his daughter after their mother, he still honored her by asking her to stand as godmother. The Dowager Queen's eyes were full of pride and joy as she gave her blessing on her goddaughter.

King Ferdinand's ambassador stood as proxy godfather for his master. Katherine wanted someone from her family to stand as an important part of her firstborn life, and her father was the natural choice for her and Arthur, despite his less than savory reputation among the other Kings of Europe. Katherine had not been overly pleased with her father in recent days, but she still owed him something.

The new ambassador, Mendoza, a young man, carried the child into the Queen's apartments and into her waiting arms. Arthur sat on next to Katherine on her large ornate bed and acknowledged all the bows and cries of well-wishes for the newest addition to the royal family. Henry looked on the ceremony with curious eyes, never witnessing a christening, as he was too young to remember his sister Mary's.

"My sincerest congratulations, your majesty, and those from King Ferdinand as well," Mendoza addressed Katherine in her native Spanish, smiling at her with warmth. Katherine had only known Mendoza for a year or so, but she enjoyed his presence much better than her father's previous ambassadors, the men who accompanied her from Spain and never gave her updates on the situation of her native land. She didn't trust either of them, as both were converted Christians and more loyal to King Henry than her father and mother. Compared to those men, Mendoza was a welcome change.

"Thank you, your Excellency," Katherine replied back in Spanish, confusing the on-lookers. Katherine smiled up at all of them, and addressed them in her accented English. "Thank you all, for all of your well-wishes and the love you bear for our Princess Mary," Katherine announced, smiling down at her daughter.

Arthur nodded in response, a signal to everyone to leave the room, expect for Henry and Elizabeth, who stayed. Elizabeth held a maternal arm around Henry's shoulders to still him, hopefully keeping him under control during all the excitement over the child. Henry had grown up incredibly fast under her watchful eyes and although he was mature for a child of his age and bore his great titles and wealth with steadfast dignity, he still had moments where he acted as any other thirteen year old boy would. She feared that her son would get overworked, or worse, say something that could be constructed as ill-wishing his little niece who in all likelihood would have a brother or two who would someday replace Henry as heir.

"She's beautiful, Katherine, congratulations," Elizabeth replied, looking down at her first grandchild in wonderment. After all the struggle Arthur and Katherine went through with failed pregnancies she thought that the day would never come where she would be presented with a living grandchild. She knew that if her husband was alive even he would be proud, despite the child's sex, if he hadn't already convinced himself that Katherine needed to be rid of. She knew that the sterility of the young couple was not all Katherine's fault, and that most of the blame lay on her son.

"Thank you," Katherine answered with a smile, never taking her eyes off of her daughter to even spare her mother-in-law a glance, but Elizabeth didn't mind. She remembered when all of her children were born and how amazing it felt to hold them in her arms, and how terrible it felt when the three were taken from her. She said a silent prayer to God at that moment, begging him to give long life to little Mary and to never inflict the pain she felt on Katherine and Arthur.

"I am so pleased to have a baby as sweet as Mary around. When is she going to go to her own establishment, and where will it be?" Elizabeth asked, knowing that it was only proper for the Princess and whatever future siblings she may have to be in charge of their own household. Although it would be painful for the new parents to part with their beloved child, it was only for the best.

"I was thinking either Eltham or Hatfield, the latter being the more suitable choice. Eltham is terribly small and a bit outdated. I want only the best for my daughter," Arthur explained with an indulgent smile at his daughter. He never thought that he could feel such a great love and overwhelming sense of protectiveness over something so small.

"Don't send her to Eltham, the rooms have bad tapestry," Henry chimed in, not wanting his niece to live there. He had bad memories of missing his mother constantly and being downgraded as the spare heir while he lived there, and figured that Hatfield would be better for the newest addition to live at.

Arthur let out a small laugh at his brother's proclamation, remembering the first years of his life while he too lived at Eltham with his brothers and sisters. Every time his father beckoned him to court or when he finally made his permit residence at Ludlow after he married Katherine, he couldn't believe the difference in the three palaces. Richmond and Ludlow were far grander than shabby old hunting lodge. His father was never the extravagant type and wanted his children to be far away, so he picked Eltham. Arthur would never want Mary to be too far away from London, he already loathed the time he couldn't spend with his daughter when she was with her wet nurse or sleeping in her nursery.

"When is she leaving, sweetheart?" Katherine stressed, looking down at her daughter and already disliking the thought of being separated more than they already were. Because Katherine was Queen, she didn't not feed her daughter from her own breast because that was seen as improper, and Mary, being only a child of five days, slept more often than not. She understood that royal children were separated from their parents from an early age to be educated and to spend time away from the corrupted court that surrounded their parents; it didn't make the thought any easier, so Katherine held Mary closer to her.

"Not until she's a year, love, I know you'll want to spend time with her," Arthur hastened to reassure her.

"Well, I'll take my leave now, as you two clearly wish to spend time with your new daughter," Elizabeth proposed, giving a shallow curtsy to her son and daughter-in-law and withdrew. Henry mirrored as his mother and ran after her, giving a quick smile to his brother and the Queen before leaving.

"Henry, isn't Sir Thomas coming today to tutor you and Charles? You best run along, darling," Elizabeth suggested as the two walked alone in one of Whitehall's large corridors.

"He is, but I thought we could dine together instead. Sir Thomas isn't talking about anything important today, so I canceled," Henry replied, thinking himself very grown-up for having the ability to cancel his own tutoring session. At one time, that decision was left up to his brother or his father, but now Arthur trusted him to make his own decisions regarding his own education.

"Sounds lovely," Elizabeth smiled at her son, allowing him to take her arm and lead her to her own apartments where mother and son dined together.

"Is Mary more important than me?" Henry asked once his mother's ladies had served them and left them alone.

"Nobody is more important than anybody else in this family. You are the Duke of York and Somerset, and someday you will become the Archbishop of Canterbury. Besides, you are a man Henry, and men are far more important than women," Elizabeth replied, being careful not to infuse any bitterness in her voice. Despite her high noble pedigree, higher than her husband's, she was reduced to the role of a secondary consort. No matter how well a woman was born, she was always overshadowed by men, a lesson that Elizabeth learned the hard way and a lesson she figured Mary best learn early.

"Archbishop of Canterbury and having some duchies isn't anything compared to being a Princess or in my case, Prince of England. I may still be a Prince by birth but pretty soon that's not going to mean anything," Henry refuted, thinking himself very unlucky for being born second, the same thoughts that resided in his mind from a very early age.

"You ought to go to Norfolk or someplace away from London, where men and women work hard in fields for little or no pay. Being royal always means something; it means that you'll always be provided for. Even if you are in the darkest cell of the Tower, you'll be treated with respect, always. Peasants in the field weren't lucky enough and favored enough by God to be born as clever and as noble as you, my dear Henry. Thank God everyday for your good fortune," Elizabeth mildly chided her son, knowing that her words were true. Henry may have not been born to be King, but that didn't mean that he didn't have far greater birth than virtually everyone.

"I do mother, I just always long for more," Henry truthfully replied.

"Did Wolsey and Sir Thomas not tell you about what happens to those who are vain and ungrateful? They go to the purgatory, Henry," Elizabeth piously stated, hoping to scare enough fear into her son so he'd learn some humility. As much as she loved Henry, faults and all, a little modesty wouldn't hurt him in the future.

Henry nodded and looked down, picking at his chicken in shame. Sir Thomas had scolded him a few years ago for being too vain and pompous, and now his mother was saying the same thing. He couldn't help it! He just knew that he was special, and lost no opportunity to prove it. However, he figured he would keep quiet around others and only think it, that way he wouldn't offend anybody. "Forgive me mother, I spoke in grave envy of Arthur, I will never do it again," Henry replied sweetly, hoping to make his mother forget about his comments.

Elizabeth nodded and smiled, pleased with his response. She knew how unhappy Henry was about his eminent entrance into the church, but she didn't dare say it out loud. It was her dead husband's wish and it was her son's wish, now the King, and she knew she had no choice but to obey the men in her life always.

If she had more courage, she would speak out for her son against his own brother. However, the best she could do was to teach her son life lessons, in hope that he would do well in his calling, whatever it may be.

_Short, I know, sorry! Nothing much really going on in this chapter besides the birth of Mary, so the rest of the events are more setting up for things to come, and some foreshadowing. Sorry to all those who wanted Katherine and Arthur to have a son, things just won't be that easy. Next chappie will be longer and hopefully more action packed, and I'm not sure if I am going to skip again. Don't forget to review! Until next time…_


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Author's note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! I'm glad everybody enjoyed the last chapter, even though it was short, and sorry that this chapter took so long to get up. Thanks to all my reviewers and to everybody who read the last chapter and alerted/favorited. You are all so amazing!

Disclaimer, of course: Historical liberties will be taken. This story is a work of fan fiction, meaning that it is in no way accurate at all. Bear with me here guys, you've all been so great! Finally, please note the time jump at the beginning of the chapter, I know I had one last chapter but I needed one to happen again.

Without further ado, the fourteenth chapter of King Arthur II! (Can you believe it?!) Enjoy!

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**Hatfield House**

September 3, 1520

"The Princess Mary is a credit to your majesties in every way, she has long since outgrown her elementary lessons and is so intelligent that it is staggering, especially at her tender age of four," Lady Salisbury praised the young daughter of the King and Queen, and their only living child, with an animated face that showed her pride in her young charge. It was clear to the doting parents that their child's governess was not fluffing up her reports in order to please the royals, a notion that pleased them both.

"Thank you for the care you've given my precious girl," Arthur replied, smiling warmly at the governess. When Katherine and he decided to visit Hatfield without warning, he was pleased to see that the manor his beloved daughter was residing in had been well-kept and that Lady Salisbury was as charming as ever. It was rare that he was able to free up his whole day to see his daughter, and he was pleased that today was a relativity calm day in the kingdom, and he trusted his chancellor to handle the matters that occurred while he was visiting Mary.

"Can she be brought down to us?" Katherine requested eagerly. She was so pleased when Arthur suggested the idea of a visit earlier that morning. She usually kept herself occupied with matters concerning the kingdom, the matters that Arthur left in her capable hands, and that freed little time for her to visit her precious daughter and her only living child.

Although it was a disappointment that she had no son, Mary was everything she could ask for in a child, and Arthur never even broached the topic of having another child after Katherine's fifth miscarriage. He was concerned for her health more than anything else, even if that meant leaving Mary as his only heir.

"Mama! Papa!" Mary exclaimed, breaking free of her governess' grasp and rushing over into her father's outstretched arms, forgoing her well-practiced manners for a moment. It had been too long since she had seen them, and wasn't about to waste time curtsying to her father and mother, even if it was the proper thing to do.

"Everyday I look at you, my precious, I see your mama in you more and more," Arthur complimented, beaming at his daughter. Although it was a common compliment, Arthur wasn't lying when he spoke those words to his daughter. Mary looked like Katherine from head to toe. Her hair was the same color and as she grew older and her hair grew longer, it framed her face the same way Katherine's did. Even though his beloved wife was getting in years, she was still the most beautiful women in the kingdom in Arthur's eyes, and was pleased that his daughter shared her traits.

Mary smiled and clapped her hands at the praising words from her father. Arthur held her firmly with both of his arms, even though he was weak by nature, his daughter was not a large girl by any means, in fact she was smaller than most children her age. "Papa, Lady Salisbury says that I'm the brightest four-year -old she's ever known! Isn't that great?" Mary inquired with all the innocence of a girl her age, searching for more praise out of her beloved papa.

"That's the best news I've heard all day, and your mama agrees. That's why we are going to get you a special new tutor, one that will teach you more things. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Arthur asked, smiling at Katherine when Mary nodded her head eagerly. He had discussed the idea of engaging a tutor for Mary when Lady Salisbury's reports stressed how clever their child was, and although Katherine hesitated at first, thinking Mary far too young, she agreed eventually. Arthur wanted her to have the best education he could find, despite her sex. He only wanted the best for his precious daughter, and if she was going to be his only heir, he needed her to be educated as well as any other male heir would be.

Arthur had yet to pick a tutor for Mary, but he had a few in mind. Henry was seventeen now, and had long since outgrown the use of a tutor, so Sir Thomas More was on the top of his shortlist. He had done an excellent job educating his younger brother in the ways of the world, and had a great reputation around court, even though he chose not to reside there. Arthur liked the idea of More becoming his daughter's tutor.

"I have a present for you, one that I think you will like very much," Katherine announced, motioning for Maria, who had traveled with her in case she needed anything, to bring out the small gown she had her seamstress make for her daughter. Katherine didn't know much about fashion, she wore what she thought was proper, but one of her new ladies, Mistress Elizabeth Blount, helped her pick out fabrics and a design for Mary's new gown so that it would be a suitable gift for the young Princess.

Katherine was fond of Mistress Blount, who preferred to be called Bessie, and was joyful that she had a lady in waiting who understood fashion. Katherine always brought some sort of gift when she visited Mary, hoping to pacify the guilt she felt over not being able to see her as much as she would have liked and hopefully helping Mary forget about the pain of missing her two parents. She wished she could be a better mother to her daughter, and she wished that Mary could live at Whitehall, but she was a Queen, Mary was a Princess, and that just couldn't happen.

Maria handed the miniature gown to Katherine, as Mary was not quite old enough to wear the heavy gowns of a woman. Katherine smiled at her young daughter as she presented the beautiful purple gown and matching broach. Mary beamed in return. "Thank you mama!" the young girl exclaimed.

"Your most welcome sweetheart, I'm glad you like it. Next time you come to court to visit, I figured you could wear it," Katherine suggested, eager to see her adorable daughter wear her co-creation with Mistress Blount.

"When can I come to court, mama, and papa? I miss you; it gets so lonely here without you," Mary asked, her lower lip quivering and tears threatening to fall. The only thing holding the young Princess back from weeping was the remembrance of her lessons on how to act around her parents.

However, Mary's clear agony did not go unnoticed by her mother and father, who felt fresh guilt spring into their already heavy hearts. "Soon, my precious, very soon, and I'm sorry you are so lonely here. Is there anything I can do it to make it better?" Arthur soothed, picking up his distraught daughter and cradling her in his arms, forgoing all dignity he had as a King for a moment. He would not be like his grandmother when it came to his daughter, he would not allow his status as a royal prevent him from comforting and loving his child. Despite the lessons of his father and grandmother, he was still a human being even though he was the King of England.

"Come visit more often," Mary replied, offering her simple solution to her own problem.

Arthur and Katharine managed a smile at this, despite the solemn moment. "I wish we could sweetheart, but your papa and I have lots of work to do at the palace, and that prevents us from coming to visit you as often as we would like. However, that doesn't mean we don't think about you all the time and hope for reports from Lady Salisbury on how you are progressing daily," Katherine explained, kissing her daughter's soft check. Much as she would have liked to have played a more active role in Mary's upbringing, she understood that being a Queen was more important than being a mother at times.

Mary nodded, understanding the situation a bit better now. Her mama and her papa were the most important people in all of England; they were the King and Queen. Lady Salisbury explained to her a long time ago that they were in charge of every person in England and in charge of running Whitehall Palace, where all of their important subjects lived. Her governess told her, in no uncertain terms, that this was the only thing that would keep them away from so often and that their busy life did not change their love for her.

"Where's Uncle Harry? He usually comes to visit me" Mary inquired, looking up at Arthur for an answer. Her Uncle Harry was very kind to her, even though Mary found him a bit strange. He brought her sweetmeats and told the best stories. Mary enjoyed his visits very much, even though her mama didn't like it very much when her uncle came to visit her.

"He had promised his friends he'd go hunting with them today, but he sends his love and one big kiss," Arthur explained, kissing his daughter in place of his brother, causing her to begin a series of giggles. Although Henry was clearly jealous of Mary, who was heir apparent, Arthur was touched by his love for his young niece and his lack of bitterness towards the innocent girl. Katherine, however, did not take Henry's affection for their daughter at face value. She believed that Henry had an ulterior motive, even though she was not sure what it was, she did not perceive his visits as a good thing and always was in a sour mood when Henry accompanied them to Hatfield.

"Hunting seems boring, do you like to hunt papa?" Mary asked, climbing from Arthur's lap to Katherine's, hoping for a story out of her papa. She looked up at her father with the adoring eyes of a child, waiting to hear his answer.

"I used to, but I don't have time for it any more," Arthur explained, sugarcoating it for his young daughter. Although he did not have time to usually accompany the hunting parties that left everyday, that wasn't the only reason he didn't hunt. The long hours in the saddle did nothing for his health, and he had to take frequent naps throughout the day at times as it was. It was something that touched his pride deeply, and when his brother or one of his other favored courtiers invited him to hunt in a familiar sort of way, Arthur often declined and used his work as an excuse, even if he didn't have much on that particular day.

Mary nodded, bored already with the subject of hunting. The couple spent a few more hours alone with their daughter, a rare treat for the family, as Mary clamored on about how her lessons were going and how much fun Lady Salisbury's games were.

"Forgive me, your majesty, but it is getting dark. You asked me to warn you when the sun begins to set," Maria interrupted, feeling guilty. She knew that Katherine was eager to see her daughter, and although Katherine and the King had been visiting Mary for nearly five hours, the sun was setting and it was a long ride back, one that they shouldn't make in the dark.

"Thank you Maria. Saddle up my horse and his majesty's and we'll be right there," Katherine commanded, smiling at Mary as soon as Maria left. "I'm sorry sweetheart, your papa and I have to get back to work now. Soon, you'll be able to visit us at court, I promise."

"You promise?" Mary pressed, holding back tears.

"Yes, I promise," Katherine solemnly repeated, kissing her daughter one last time before she left.

"Goodbye, my precious. I'll see you soon," Arthur said after Katherine had left, picking up Mary and kissing her one last time and allowing her to hug him before setting her down and leaving her with her governess.

As they began to ride back, both of them couldn't contain the tears that were threatening to fall from their own guilt, and both parents vowed they would do whatever they could to make it up to their precious daughter.

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

Katherine had enjoyed her visit with her daughter, as it gave her a chance to see how clever Arthur's only heir was.

It was a failure to her to have only given Arthur a single living child, and a girl at that. She would never trade Mary for the world, but there was a piece of her missing without presenting Arthur with the future King of England. She was sure that Mary would be able to rule England as ably as any man, it was in their family's blood to have strong female rulers, but that didn't mean that Mary's rule would be easy. England was not like Spain, they would not respect a woman in the same way they welcomed her own mother, and Mary would have a hard time securing her throne, especially against her own uncle.

Henry was growing old now, and was no longer the precious little boy that greeted her upon coming to England. He was seventeen, with an independent streak that made it highly unlikely that he'd accept his fate in the church willingly. Sir Thomas no longer tutored Henry, as he was too old for a tutor, so Henry had a multitude of time, which he used to hunt, ride, and practice archery. Whatever he wanted it was his because of his large inheritance from Margaret Beaufort which Elizabeth of York turned over to him the previous year. Henry had even begun to build estates of his own and had a band of followers which included Charles Brandon, Anthony Knivert, and William Compton.

Although Elizabeth and Arthur both assured her that Henry meant no harm and that these were just boyish antics, Katherine didn't trust him for a moment. She feared that he was setting himself up as the next heir, ahead of her daughter! She had to do something, she had to show the whole country that Henry was not next in line and that Mary was, even if Mary was a young girl and that Henry was a man at the peak of vitality.

It was a stretch, but she had to believe that Arthur felt the same way, at least a little bit. She was to dine with Arthur tonight, where she would present her plan and she prayed to God that Arthur would see that she was correct in proposing it.

"Hello my love," Arthur joyfully greeted Katherine as soon as he entered her apartments, drawing Katherine from her anxious thoughts. She accepted his kiss and dismissed all of her attendants but a few, who would stay to wait on them.

After a few moments of idle chatter about the state of the kingdom, which was always positive news as Katherine and Arthur had ushered in an era of peace and prosperity for England, Katherine figured it was the right moment to propose her plan. "There are still some people who see the Duke of York as the next heir to the throne," she began with a loving smile.

"I know, and it's a problem. I think it's just because Mary is so young, I'm sure it'll pass once they see how able she is," Arthur dismissed with his usual coolness which irritated Katherine a bit, but she didn't show it in her face.

"I don't think that's it. I think it's because Mary is simply a Princess of England, she isn't anything special, while Henry holds a royal title. If we were to invest Mary, with lets say, the title of Princess of Wales, it would show people that she was your heir, not Henry," Katherine proposed. It made sense to her, Henry truly was second in line, and if Mary held the principality of Wales in her own right, then Henry would still be seen as second if he held the title of Duke of York.

"That's a big step, don't you think?" Arthur asked, apprehensive to do something so drastic. While he loved Mary and wanted only the best for her, he wasn't sure that investing her with his old title would be the best idea. It was a title reserved for the wife of a Prince of Wales, and no woman ever held it in her own right.

"Think about it this way, Mary is going to be Queen, we agreed on that a long time ago. No woman has ever held that title in her own right successful, correct? Well, if Mary gets some practice holding a traditional male title I think it would do her good when she inherits someday," Katherine rationalized.

"She's too young to run a real household…" Arthur began but he was cut off.

"So were you, and your father was anything but brazen when it came to these things. We don't need to send her to Ludlow right away, though I think it would be best to, that decision is yours alone. I just think it would make sense to invest that title on your next heir," Katherine pressed, unwilling to let this go. This was her daughter's future and it was so important to her.

"I will make the arrangements, and summon Mary to court so she can be elevated," Arthur agreed after a short silence. It was a big step, but Katherine was correct when she said that Mary would need practice so when she inherited England one day, she would be ready.

"Oh, I knew you'd agree! Mary will be so pleased, and you have made me very happy," Katherine crowed, impulsively pulling her beloved husband into a kiss.

If Katherine had married another foreign Prince, she was sure that he couldn't be nearly as generous of a husband to her that Arthur was. Another man would have hid behind his pride and blamed her for the lack of male heir, but Arthur never reproached her or even questioned why Mary was their only child. Another man would have scorned their daughter, viewing her as unable to run a country by herself due to her sex, and continued to risk Katherine's health by trying to conceive a male heir, while Arthur understood that it was better to keep his beloved Queen happy and healthy then to try in vain for another child. Another man wouldn't even have considered heaping great honors onto a daughter, even if she was their heir.

Even when they were the scared young Prince and Princess of Wales, after their early fights, Katherine saw herself as being very content in the future with her husband. He always treated her as an equal; saw her as a partner rather than a consort. Her early fears, when Henry VII kept his son close to him when he neared death, almost seemed futile now. She never imagined that her life could be this glorious in England, with the way that Margaret Beaufort and Henry VII treated her, but after they died her life had been wonderful, sans the miscarriages.

England welcomed her from the start, and continued to praise Katherine and Arthur as the founders of a great new dynasty in England, even though it was really the Old King Henry that founded the Tudors as a royal family. Katherine was sure that they would welcome Mary as Princess of Wales and Queen of England, given how fond they were of Arthur and her, once they saw that it was their intention for Mary to inherit, not the Duke of York.

"Sweetheart, just remember that Wales is far away, and that we may not be able to see Mary as often as we want to," Arthur rationalized, hitting a more personal note with his wife and himself. Given how little they saw her now when she moved to Wales, a long ride as Arthur remembered all too well, it would be hard for them to leave for extended periods of time, unless they were on royal progresses during the summer, leaving them separated from their daughter for what Arthur viewed as too long. He never believed that he would make that great of a father or husband when he was younger, but once he married Katherine and Mary was born he couldn't imagine life without them both.

"I know," Katherine replied quietly and dropped her head in sorrow. When she looked back into Arthur's eyes, her own eyes were full of determined blue steel and just a hint of sorrow glazed them. "It's worth it though. Her future is more important than our own feelings, even though it's going to be hard to be separated for so long." She had thought that part through well enough, not liking to dwell on it. She wished that England was more like Spain, where it was okay for the royal family to be under one roof, but if Mary was Princess of Wales it would add to her creditability and make her future much smoother. She felt like it was the best thing she could do for her daughter, although it would be hard to be separated.

Arthur smiled, admiring her love for their daughter. "Then it is the right thing to do," he replied, hoping that he could believe himself.

* * *

Henry's look was absolutely distracted when Charles Brandon came to visit his friend since boyhood in his rooms at Whitehall.

Since they had grown up, Henry and Charles were inseparable, and Charles could think of no other person that he wished to spend time with. "Your grace, I figured we could play a game of tennis later, if you are up to it," Charles began, not sure what kind of mood his friend was in. Usually he had no trouble reading Henry, but on this particular day Henry seemed moody and distracted.

"No I'm not, but thank you Charles. Have a seat, if you'd like, although I don't think I'll be very good company right now," Henry replied, looking up at his friend with a wan smile. He didn't want to talk about the piece of disturbing news he had heard earlier in the day, but he figured it would do no good to keep it bottled inside of him for too long.

"If I may, would you like to talk about it?" Charles asked, his tone of voice revealing his concern and nerves regarding his friend's mood. Usually, this was caused by Henry's visits with both the King of Queen, and his disgust as being treated as the spare heir, as usual.

"Arthur told me that he is going to make Mary the Princess of Wales, in her own right. I should have known this was going to happen!" Henry exclaimed, burying his face deep into the palm of his hands.

Henry was fond of his niece, it would take a cold hearted person not to be fond of Mary, but that didn't mean that he was pleased about news of her elevation. Even though Katherine always made sure to stress his status as second in line, there were many courtiers, although they hide it well, who supported him over Mary as next in line. They also told him that many of the common people would rather see Henry become the next King over a female, even if they were fond of Arthur and Katherine.

By giving Mary this title it would drain what support Henry had and make it harder for him to ever become King. It was something he didn't like to accept, and it was something that he had discussed with his mother already, who scolded him for ill-wishing Mary. His mother stressed that even though some supported Henry as heir, Mary would still inherit and the only way that Henry would ever become King after that is if Mary was assassinated, if she died childless, or if Henry waged civil war and won. Although some of these options were tempting to Henry at times, he would never even consider going through with them, as he was far too fond of Mary to harm her in any way, not to mention the pain it would cause Arthur and Katherine, as well as England. Henry wasn't that selfish.

"I'm sorry, but at least they didn't change their mind about the church, did they?" Charles asked, remembering a year or so ago when Arthur informed Henry that he didn't have to enter the church if he didn't want to. Apparently, the Dowager Queen, Wolsey, and More had all been able to champion in Henry's defense, saying that although Henry had a wonderful grasp of theology and Latin, his place was not the church.

"No, but I'm sure that's next. The Queen is not fond of me," Henry replied sharply, his anger evident. Katherine was suspicious of Henry and never did much to try and conceal her distrust. Arthur was, at times, so easily swayed by Katherine that he was sure that if she did enough coaxing, Henry would be destined for the church again. Henry wouldn't be surprised if it was Katherine's idea to invest Mary as Princess of Wales, and not Arthur's.

Charles nodded, trying to think of something that would get Henry's mind off of the terrible topic of succession and titles. "A walk, perhaps?" Charles proposed after a few minutes of painful silence.

Henry smiled slightly and nodded, thinking he would like to get some fresh air and get out of this stuffy palace that felt like it was constraining him. He got up and followed Charles, and to the young men's dismay, it was a raining. "Well, that's alright, we can just walk around the palace," Charles optimistically replied, although he was disappointed by the rain as well, he refused anything else to mar Henry's sour mood.

The two men talked and walked for hours, mostly about things that didn't really matter, things of a trivial nature. Arthur, Katherine, Mary, or anybody else who would stress Henry out were not brought up.

The two were not paying close attention to the other people that walked, and as Henry was telling a humorous story of how Compton almost fell off of his horse, he ran smack into one of Katherine's ladies in waiting, a young woman he had never seen before.

"Your grace, forgive me," the young woman replied, dropping down into a curtsy, horrified once she figured out who she had ran into.

"No, no it's quite alright, I should have paid closer attention. What is your name, Mistress…?" Henry asked, admiring the woman for a second. She wore the traditional gown of all of the Queen's ladies, but something about the way she carried herself made Henry far more drawn to her. She was very attractive, with blue doe eyes and curly blonde hair that was eloquently tucked within a French headdress.

"My name is Elizabeth Blount your grace," Mistress Blount replied, sweetly smiling at the handsome young Duke and his companion.

"Well it is a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Blount," Henry amended, kissing her hand and smiling up at her, while Brandon looked on, pleased with the scene unfolding before him.

_Ahh! Sorry, it's short again! Well, I hope you enjoyed it, and next time they'll be some more royal family cuteness and the like. Also, side note, I'm not sure if Bessie Blount knew ANYTHING about fashion, but I needed to introduce her somehow. Please don't forget to review if you enjoyed it, and until next time my friends :)_


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II and thanks again for all the reviews on the last chapter! You are all so amazing :) 139 reviews is way more than I ever expected to have on this little ambitions AU, so thanks everyone! Moving on…

Anne is going to appear next chapter, so just hold on tight!

Disclaimer: this is AU; all liberties are taken with full knowledge of actual events and are taken only for the purposes of the story.

Without further ado, the fifteenth chapter of King Arthur II! Enjoy!

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

October 15, 1520

"Mama, don't I look pretty?" little Princess Mary called to her mother from the mirror which she was admiring herself in. Yesterday, her papa threw a special party for her, one that required her to dress in her finest gown and be presented in front of the whole court, and a ceremony took place that elevated her to status as Princess of Wales, her father's official heir. Her tutors and her governess stressed that this was a very important title, and a great honor, one that she couldn't take lightly, and she didn't when the time came.

Today, her papa was having a special joust, one that celebrated her elevation, and Mary couldn't be any more pleased. Yesterday, she had worn the purple gown her mama gave to her last time they visited her at Hatfield, but today she wore a pretty green one, another beautiful gown fit only for the Princess of Wales. Although Lady Salisbury told Mary often that it was a sin to think highly of herself, Mary couldn't help but admire her own reflection in the mirror.

"You look lovely Mary, as usual. May I suggest wearing this though?" her mama proceeded to tie a ribbon around Mary's wrist. Mary noted that the ribbon matched her gown, it was a light green color and it was snug around her skinny wrist.

"What is it?" Mary asked, looking up at her mama and noticed that she also had one around her wrist.

"It's called a favor, you can tie it around the lance of one of the men who are jousting today, and he'll become your champion if he wins," Katherine explained, smiling at her daughter and marveling how fast she'd grown from the last time she saw her. She was impressed with the way her daughter conducted herself at the ceremony the previous day, and was glad that Lady Salisbury was doing a fine job of educating her darling Princess.

"Does Papa joust?" Mary asked innocently. She hadn't been able to ever see a real joust until today, although she knew what it was, and she was curious to see if her papa would join the other men of the court or sit it out. Mary hoped that he would joust, but she couldn't be too sure, as her Papa didn't hunt or ride out as often as the other men did.

"No, your papa doesn't joust," Katherine answered, keeping her tone light for her daughter. It never bothered Katherine that Arthur never jousted and she always wore a favor around her wrist so he wouldn't feel awkward, but even though it didn't bother Katherine, it arouse some questions about her husband's physical capability around court. She hated it when courtiers talked poorly behind Arthur's back, taking advantage of his mellow nature and knowing that they could get away with it.

Mary nodded, figuring that this was the case, and she hoped that a brave knight would wear her favor today, thinking her the most beautiful Princess that England ever had. "Is grandmamma coming?" Mary asked, thinking that it would be nice to see her grandmother again. Elizabeth stayed away from court banquets and jousts more often than not, but she was always very kind to Mary when Mary saw her.

"No, she isn't feeling well and she is going to stay in, but your Auntie Mary is coming," Katherine answered. Elizabeth wasn't fond of excitement anymore, in fact Katherine couldn't remember a time when she had been, but lately the older woman had been feeling ill and Arthur even had to summon a physician. Luckily, it was nothing serious but it worried Henry and Arthur to no end to see their mother become weakened after her long and healthy life.

Mary smiled at this idea. Her Uncle Harry and her Auntie Mary were both very kind to her, and she enjoyed their company very much. She found her Auntie to be one of the most beautiful women at court, after her mama of course, and she enjoyed the way her youthful aunt dressed and carried herself. She hoped that one day she would be as pretty and glamorous as her Auntie Mary.

"Ready to go, my precious and my beloved?" Arthur walked into Katherine's room, where his daughter and wife were preparing themselves. His grin was wide as he answered Mary's inquiries about her appearance, praising her beauty, and he accepted the kiss from his wife with much enthusiasm. He extended his arm for Katherine to take, and then extended the other one for Mary to take and the happy royal family went to the tiltyard.

"Auntie Mary, where's Uncle Harry?" Mary addressed her aunt once the royal family had settled on the dais. It was a hot autumn day, so the dais that the royal family's thrones were on was underneath a large canopy, to shield them from the sun.

"He's over there sweetheart," Mary addressed her niece, pointing out the young man in armor on a beautiful black horse. Mary was proud of her brother; he was her favorite sibling after all and always protected her from any threat, trivial or not. At thirteen years old, the same age Margaret Tudor had been when she married King James, Mary found herself very fortunate not have a marriage arranged for her yet. Arthur either hadn't thought of it yet, or he never was going to, a hope that Mary held onto.

Little Mary nodded, and then turned once more to address her aunt. "You look very pretty today, Auntie Mary." Her Auntie Mary had a yellow gown on, and Mary thought she looked like the sun, since she had a halo of golden blonde hair to compliment the gown.

"Thank you, you do as well," Mary returned the compliment; glad to see her niece was growing into a childhood beauty.

Henry was the first one on the lists to joust, and he was jousting against Charles Brandon, his longtime friend. Henry rode up, without his helmet on, and acknowledged the King and Queen before riding up to where Katherine's ladies were sitting. "Mistress Blount, may I have the honor of wearing your favor today?" Henry asked the pretty young woman, who blushed after receiving his affections and rose to tie the dainty ribbon around the Duke of York's lance. After she was done, she looked up and smiled at him.

In respect to the royal family, he probably should have worn his niece's favor, but he couldn't help himself. His desire for Bessie Blount was growing by the minute, since he had run into her in the palace that one day, and their relationship had yet to be consummated. He often singled her out for dances and when Katherine's ladies were given leisure time he walked with her in the gardens, but he never asked the pressing question of if she'd be his mistress or not.

He wasn't sure if she would accept such a title, if God were fair to Henry and made him King over Arthur, than Bessie would surely consent to becoming his mistress, if not for any other reason that he was King and could offer her protection against slander and get her a decent husband when it was all said and done, but Henry wasn't King and he wasn't sure if a woman, even if she was fond of him, would offer up her reputation just to become the mistress of the Duke of York, second in line to the throne.

Arthur smiled on the scene, glad to see that his brother was developing chivalrous affections for a young woman, but Katherine's glance was sharp towards Bessie Blount, her disapproval plain. Henry's affections towards other women were frightening to say the least, and even though her husband had broken the agreement that Henry would enter the church, Katherine would prefer it if Henry didn't sire any children. Mary was still Arthur's only heir, and would probably stay Arthur's only heir, so any children by Henry were her rivals and threatened the delicate balance of the new Tudor Dynasty.

Katherine squeezed Arthur's hand after Henry had ridden away, waving towards the people as they cheered his name, and Charles Brandon approached the dais. "We need to talk later," Katherine said through gritted teeth without looking at Arthur, holding her smile as not to alert any bystander of her disapproval.

Arthur simply nodded in response to Charles greeting, not acknowledging what Katherine said, but Katherine took it as his understanding.

Charles Brandon rode up to where the elder Princess Mary was sitting, next to her niece with the same name. "Your highness, may I have the honor of wearing your favor for good luck?" Brandon asked his voice charming and his tone respectful. He had admired the young Princess from a distance, always finding her the most beautiful woman in the whole entire room, and if their stations were not so far apart, even if he was the best friend of her beloved brother, he would befriend her with the hopes of romantic affection. However, she was a Princess and he was the son of her father's standard bearer, living off the generosity of her brother King, and love and marriage were out of the question.

"Certainly, Mr. Brandon, and I hope the favor does you justice," Mary replied as she tied the ribbon around his lance, smiling up at him with only the slightest hint of suggestiveness. He was eighteen and at the peak of his handsomeness and vitality, and Mary couldn't help but be flattered by his attention, even if she was a Princess.

Arthur, as usual, wasn't unduly concerned about Brandon's attention towards his sister, knowing that she understood her place, but Katherine was ever watchful and watched the scene unfold with an outward smile but an inward grimace. She knew the young Tudor Princess well enough, and knew that the girl often dreamed about marrying for love in a fanciful manner. She was an important pawn for England, as her own daughter wasn't old enough to marry in Katherine's eyes, and at thirteen Mary was the prime age for marriage. It would be a bad situation if Mary were to marry herself off to a common Englishman, and the loss of a very important asset.

"Your sister certainly has grown into a beautiful young woman," Katherine mentioned casually after Brandon and Henry had sparred. Brandon was able to unseat Henry to the extreme delight of one Princess Mary, and the worry of another one. Katherine watched as her sister-in-law shamelessly clapped for her champion, waving to him brazenly from the dais. "Have you considered a marriage for her?" Katherine asked, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to discuss at a joust.

"She's only thirteen," Arthur replied. He had no intention of giving his sister away too soon, not without weighting the options of each suitor, as there had been many eager for her hand. Also, Mary was still very young in Arthur's eyes, remembering his own marriage when he was fifteen. He couldn't imagine doing the shameful things he had to do two years beforehand; it was hard enough at fifteen! He always felt bad for Margaret, who went to Scotland so young and had to marry a man so much older than her, and then become widowed after she learned to grow affectionate towards him. He didn't want to act like his father in the case of his younger sister's marriage, and didn't plan to.

"My nephew, King Charles V, the newly elected Holy Roman Emperor, is only twenty, and a very worthy bridegroom for Princess Mary. They are close enough in age and if Mary stays in England much longer, she could attract unwanted attention," Katherine suggested casually, thinking the match was perfect under the present circumstances. The house of Valios were her ancient enemies, and if she was able to double the ties to England and Spain, as Charles was also the King of Spain, than that would isolate the newly coroneted King Francis of France and make the ties to her homeland that much stronger. In the absence of having her own daughter be old enough, her sister-in-law was the perfect bride.

"I will consider it, and talk to the Imperial Ambassador as soon as I can," Arthur replied, hoping to pacify his wife somewhat. Although the match was a good one, undeniably so, Arthur didn't want to jump into something as heavy as his sister's marriage without some negotiations first, and certainly not without talking to her before he made his final decision.

Katherine smiled. "Thank you, I think it would be a great match," she replied, watching as Mary frowned when Henry unseated Brandon and watching her own daughter clap at the sight of her beloved uncle unseating the strange man she didn't know very well.

For a fleeting moment, Katherine glanced over to the area where her own ladies were watching the joust, and her eyes fixated on Bessie Blount, whose face was in a wide smile. Bessie waved to Henry, who, although he was basking in his own glory, found time to wave to the woman who he was currently courting.

Katherine turned away, resolving to handle the matter before it got out of hand.

* * *

Bessie Blount stood alone in the spacious chambers of the Duke of York and the constant tap of her foot showed her impatience towards the wait. She had been standing there for nearly a half an hour, yet there was no sign of him.

Henry told her to come right away, and Bessie had no choice but to agree.

It was a tricky situation that she was in, one that scared and excited her all at the same time. Nearly a month had passed since she had run into the young Duke and his companion in the hallway, and she could scarcely believe how far their courtship had come in just a month.

At first, it was the sly looks when Henry came into the Queen's rooms or when the whole court dined together. Then Henry began to single her out for dances, and Bessie enjoyed those dances, as she soon found out her suitor was a marvelous dancer, the best partner she had ever had. Soon after that, he called on her during her leisure times, often walking with her in the gardens or even asking her to join his private hunting party.

It had moved very quickly for the sixteen year old naïve girl, and she was so unsure how to handle his attention at first. She was taught, naturally, that her virginity was the biggest part of the dowry when she got married, and that it was very important to protect her virtue. Bessie never had a problem with this before, as she lived out in the country with her governess and her mother and never had to worry about male attention.

However, her father summoned her to court a year ago and she soon earned a coveted post in the Queen's household as a maid in waiting. She quickly learned that it was important to gain the favor of the King and Queen at any cost possible, and that some young girls tried to seduce the King in hopes of gaining his favor, but it never worked. King Arthur was so loyal to Queen Katherine that it was impossible for any girl, no matter how pretty or flirty she was, to gain the romantic attention of their King.

So Bessie didn't even try, nor did she really want to. She stayed close to her mistress, whom she was very fond of, and often helped the Queen pick out fabrics for gowns intended for her daughter. The Queen showered the Princess of Wales with elaborate gowns very often, to make up for the time that the two never got to spend together, and Bessie was always more than willing to help pick out fabrics or sketch designs, and soon she had earned the trust of her mistress.

When Henry's affection for Bessie became plain to the innocent girl, she asked her mother and father what to do if Henry ever asked for her to become his mistress. She may have been a good pious Catholic girl and well-aware of the consequences of becoming another man's mistress, but she couldn't discount the possibility and she hated to be unprepared for the whole thing. Her father took some time in answering the question, but praised Bessie for being able to hold the lusty man's attention for so long without sex.

Initially, her father told Bessie to refuse, even if it lost the friendship of the Duke of York, which upset Bessie but made sense to her. Although she was fond of Henry very much, and enjoyed his friendship, she wasn't sure if she could handle being a royal mistress, easily taken up and discarded. Her father also expressed concern about Henry's status, even though he wasn't going to become a clergyman as originally thought, he was still in a difficult position. He was second in line, but the young Princess of Wales was set to inherit and Henry's chances of gaining the throne were slim even if the King and Queen's sole heiress was female. Bessie's father also knew that Henry's relationship with the Queen wasn't the best, and he wasn't sure what Bessie's advantages would be if she became his mistress.

However, he soon changed his mind once he saw how fond the King was of his brother. He figured Bessie had nothing to lose and everything to gain if she slept with the Duke of York, even if the liaison was short-lived. After all, if the Duke of York had influence over his brother, Bessie could get a rich and noble husband when it was all said and done, far better of a husband than she'd get if she was simply just one of the many favorites of the Queen's ladies.

So earlier that day, when Henry asked to wear her favor, Bessie knew that she had to follow the orders of her father and encourage Henry's affections in any way she could. So she smiled brazenly at him, even waved to him and gave him a small chaste hug after he had unseated his friend Charles Brandon two to one.

When Henry, after the banquet, asked her to come to his rooms alone, she had no choice but to go, even if she was scared out of her wits.

The creaking of the door drew Bessie from her thoughts and her palms began to sweat and shake once she realized that it was the Duke of York dressed only in his nightshirt. She tried very hard to mask her nerves, but she felt her checks go hot and her voice leave her when he touched her neck and planted a kiss on her lips. "Do you consent?" he asked with almost a sadistic edge to his voice that frightened Bessie even more.

She knew what she had to say, but she wasn't sure if would come out. Drumming up all the courage and strength the poor sixteen year old had, she finally replied:

"Yes."

* * *

_A week later…_

"The theory of Bessie Blount is dangerous, even if she isn't. Arthur doesn't believe me," Katherine pondered to Maria when it was just the two of them alone in her apartments. She had dismissed all of her ladies after a somewhat disastrous dinner with her husband, who steadfastly denied that Henry having a mistress was a bad thing, and she had dismissed Bessie and a few other young girls for the whole week, telling them to enjoy the weather, even though it was truly because she couldn't stand to look at Bessie. She knew what the insolent girl was up to.

Katherine had been a sour mood the latter half of the week, after she was forced to part with Mary, who was on her way to Ludlow in order to establish her official household as Princess of Wales. It was bittersweet to Katherine, who wanted Mary to have as strong as position as possible, but at the same time, Wales was far distance from London, much farther than the distance between Hatfield and Whitehall. So, as a human being, Katherine had been stressed after Mary left, and it didn't help matters that Mary made a fuss about leaving after such a short visit with her mama and papa.

Katherine's mood was not helped by Bessie Blount and her brother-in-law's liaison. Katherine was able to take some comfort in the fact that Bessie and Henry hadn't officially had sex for the earlier part of the month, even if Henry brazenly favored Bessie, but Katherine could clearly see now that Bessie was Henry's mistress.

She remembered briefly her father's own affairs, which were sometimes short lived and other times she could remember her father taking one mistress for nearly a year. Her mother never said a word when her husband stalked off with some girl, retiring early and feigning illness. Katherine always silently wondered how her mother held her composure when her husband slept around and took more mistress than days of the year, but she never asked her. Her mother never saw it as her right to reproach her husband, and Katherine learned quickly that if Arthur was the same way as her own father, she had no right to question or protest it.

Luckily, Arthur was an extremely faithful husband, devoted only to her and content with leaving their daughter as his heir, but Henry was a different story. Katherine knew it was only a matter of time before Henry sought carnal pleasures with the beautiful women of the court, but Katherine didn't think it would bother her this much. She expected to have a son by now, secure as Arthur's heir, and not be in this position.

Katherine knew in her heart that Mary would make a wonderful Queen when the time came and that she was the best heir a man could ask for, even if she was a female, but she couldn't expect the whole country to see it that way, even if she wished it so. England was not well-accustomed to female rulers as Spain was; even Arthur's consolers were still uncomfortable with Katherine's unofficial roles as Queen, so Katherine was pleased with the path Henry was taking towards the church, to get him out of the way as a potential rival to her daughter.

However, Arthur didn't see Henry's position this way. Although Arthur was content with leaving Mary his heir, even investing his daughter with the title Princess of Wales in her own right, he wasn't content with putting his younger brother in the church, not when Mary was his only heir. He viewed Henry was a back up plan if Mary couldn't get a majority or even if she needed a Lord Protector. He wasn't okay with Henry entering the church and taking vows of celibacy, possibly clearing the Tudor bloodline completely.

Katherine feared the day when Henry had a wife and children of his own, and prayed to God that Henry wouldn't develop a desire to marry. Even if the bachelor life was risk if he was able to sire a child on Bessie, it was nothing compared to if Henry ever took a wife and had legitimate children. It could possibly create a civil war, placing her daughter's position in serious jeopardy. However, the real risk in Bessie Blount was how Henry was utterly besotted, maybe not with her, but with the idea of having a female companion, and he might want to make the feeling last forever with a rich, powerful, and fertile wife.

Katherine earnestly wished that Henry would gain sense and find some kind of desire to enter the church again. She wished that there was some way to coax the wiry young Duke into listening to her, but Henry wouldn't. She just prayed that some kind of opportunity would come up that she could use to her advantage.

"I understand, but Mary is Arthur's official heir now, there's no questioning it. Some silly sixteen year old girl isn't going to ruin your work and the King's work. Mary will inherit and pick up where you two left off, not Henry and his children," Maria soothed.

Whatever Katherine was going to say in response was interrupted by Arthur's entrance into the room, his face grim. "Sweetheart," he began, his voice threatening to crack.

"Husband, what is it?" Katherine asked, her fear rising when Arthur didn't answer her straight way. "Is it Mary?!" she shrilly questioned, fearing the worst. Only something as terrible as their beloved child being in danger could put a look on Arthur's usual calm and cheerful face.

"She has caught some form of illness, they are not sure what it is yet, but they assure me it is not the sweat," Arthur replied, his terror clear although his fears were able to be pacified by the admission that it was not the sweat. He remembered catching it at Ludlow when he was a teenager and how terrible he felt, he was almost certain he was going to die and when he survived his health was never the same.

"We have to go to her," Katherine commanded, knowing it was the only option. "Maria, begin to pack my things and alert the chamberlain that I am leaving, and have one of the other ladies saddle my horse."

"Sweetheart, it is a long ride, and my Chancellor has resigned remember? I have yet to pick a replacement, somebody has to stay," Arthur reminded Katherine practically, his tone of voice leaving room for little argument. He had thought it out before, wanting to go to Mary as soon as possible, but he knew that it was out of the question at the moment.

As much as it hurt, he had to be a King over a father.

"You can stay, I am going. I don't care if I am the Queen of England; this is my child and our heir, our Princess of Wales, and I suggest you come with me. Or do you want to act as your father did, waiting at Richmond while you were ill, waiting for word but refusing to come and see you for fear of leaving his kingdom unattended? You may want to, but I certainly do not wish to," Katherine pressed, not waiting for an answer as she stalked into her bed chamber and commanded all of the ladies outside the door to begin to dress her in her riding habit.

"You are being unreasonable! It is nearly a two day's ride, even on the fastest horse without breaking the journey, and there isn't much I can do anyway!" Arthur protested, ripping open the curtain in anger, not caring that Katherine was changing. All of her ladies were scandalized, but Arthur was beyond caring.

"Mary most likely wants us there, and she is more important to me than a calm week in the kingdom. How can you live with this decision, knowing that she'll be calling for her papa while she lays in bed like an invalid, scared and unsure of what is going on? I thought you were different than your father, but this is exactly what he would do!" Katherine accused, pointing a finger in his face. The royal couple hadn't fought since they were newlyweds, and clearly the stress of knowing that their only child could die in a matter of hours was enough to cause a slight rift in their nearly perfect relationship.

"How can you say that to me? My father certainly would have never left a female as his heir or let his wife have anything to say with the welfare of his kingdom, but haven't I done all this? Have I not been advised by you in all things? Have I not respected your opinions and loved our daughter as if she was my son?" Arthur rhetorically asked, his anger reaching new heights.

"I don't have time for this argument, my daughter needs me," Katherine responded, pushing past Arthur, not turning back to see if he followed her, although she said a silent prayer to God that he would, if not for her sake and sanity but for their daughter's. Right now, she was angry at him, but she knew that in a few hours she would break down over the idea of their daughter's illness and she would need Arthur there.

Within an hour, all of Katherine's belongings were packed in a carriage and her horse was ready. "His majesty, the King," a man announced, causing Katherine to whip around and see her husband standing there, his face solemn. She gave him a questioning look as he mounted on the horse next to hers.

"Cardinal Wolsey is handling everything that may or may not happen while I am gone. You were right, as usual, Mary needs me," Arthur conceded, giving his wife a wan smile and proceeded to squeeze her leg as a reassurance. "She's tough, just like her mother. She'll be fine."

"As always, I pray that you are right," Katherine replied as she clicked her heels, singling for her horse to go to her daughter, who needed her and her husband.

_Alright, kind of short, but I needed to get this out to you guys. Hopefully, next chapter will come quicker and I promise, it will be a long one with Anne Boleyn, Mary's fate, and Bessie/Henry stuff. In the meantime, don't forget to review. Till next time, folks :)_


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! I have ACTS this week, or college entrance exam for those of you who don't know, so this update is coming a little later than I would have liked. Nevertheless, it's here! Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted since last time, you are all amazing and super supportive!

Disclaimer: Historical liberties will be taken, because this is AU. You've all been awesome about it, but this chapter I take a big one. It's all for the story. (Reminder: Anne Boleyn born in September 1506, Mary in February 1504 and George June 1505- yes just made those months up on the spot, go with it, because it's AU and that's what I get to do.)

Huge thanks to ReganX, who is my resident Anne expert. The ideas in further chapters are mostly inspired by her, so thanks! :]

Without further ado, the sixteenth chapter of King Arthur II! Brace yourselves; this is going to be longer than usual.

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**Ludlow Castle**

October 24, 1520

It was disheartening, to say the least, to any parent to see their child racked with illness, but when it reached a whole new level when that certain child was the heiress to the kingdom her parents had perfected.

After their argument had ceased, the King and Queen rode as swiftly as their horses and bodies would allow them to Wales to see their ailing daughter, and could only pray that their presence would be a natural medicine to her. They took hardly any breaks throughout the whole ride; the only time they stopped is when Arthur would erupt into a coughing fit to the great dismay of Katherine, in which case she forced their party to take a small break for the health of her husband.

As always, the common people throughout the route came out to call their blessings on the King and Queen, who were extremely popular. They were blissfully unaware of the state the new Princess of Wales was in and called out their blessings cheerfully. Usually, Arthur and Katherine smiled and waved in response to these calls, but on this particular ride their moods were so solemn and dark that they found it hard to even acknowledge the blessings given to them by their subjects.

When they arrived, they weren't greeted with the usual pomp and fuss by their daughter's household, but they were greeted instead by silence. Only Mary's chamberlain was there when they entered the castle, and both of them could clearly see that the man was anxious about his little mistress' condition, but there was little he could do. "Welcome your majesties," he said, not sure if he had used to the correct words to greet them. Since Mary had only been there a short time, the King and Queen had not yet visited, and they were visiting now by the most unwelcome of circumstances.

Arthur and Katherine merely nodded in acknowledgement of the man's well practiced bow of respect, and hurried upstairs to see their daughter without even inquiring her whereabouts. They both remembered where Arthur's old quarters were, and if the couple had been there on a more pleasant note, they may have even used the old stairway to get to Arthur's rooms; the stairway Arthur once used when he was the Prince of Wales to visit his wife when Margaret Beaufort had not scheduled a nighttime visit. However, both knew that they were in no mood to revisit pleasant memories about the past, but focus on the present condition of their daughter.

Once they reached her rooms, they didn't even bother knocking.

"Oh, Mary, my darling!" Katherine cooed, moving quickly to Mary's bedside, trying so hard not to think about another time that she was in this room, kneeling by another loved one who was ill. She held her tears in at the pitiful sight of her daughter, knowing that crying would only distress her child more. While Mary was never the strongest or most ruddy child, as she had inherited her father's extremely weak constitution, if she didn't know any better Katherine could of swore the child before her was not her daughter, who was so happy and full of life just a mere week ago. Her daughter was very pale, and her skin was ice cold to the touch, but her forehead was blazing.

Arthur stood back for a while, not sure if he should join his wife or if he really wanted to interrupt the touching mother daughter moment unfolding before him. His mother, while always kind and loving to him and Henry when they were younger had a different relationship with his sisters than she had with Arthur and Henry. He was sensible enough to know that while Mary adored him, as any child loved her father, that Mary and Katherine clearly had a connection, much similar, he was sure, to the connection Katherine had with her own mother and that his mother had to his sisters. He didn't like the idea of dropping in on it, even if he was their father and husband respectfully, as well as their King.

So instead, he spoke with the physician outside the door, leaving his wife to deal with their ailing daughter for a moment. "What is the matter with her?" he asked the Welsh physician, thankfully a different one than the man who attended on him when he was fifteen years old and the Prince of Wales still, ill with the sweat. While his father sent Linacre out as soon as he heard the news that Arthur was sick, the Welshman who took care of him before Linacre arrived frightened Arthur and he wouldn't want the same man waiting on his four year old daughter, who had never been exposed to anybody frightening.

"At first, your majesty, it was a mild fever, nothing that her governess was worried about, nor her maids. However, the fever progressed rapidly, and while we are sure it is not the sweating sickness, as it is not the season for that disease, we believe this fever could be fatal," the physician explained with some difficultly, knowing how precious the Princess Mary was to the King and Queen, as well as their only child and sole heiress.

Arthur felt his eyelids sting with unshed tears, tears he refused to shed in front of one of his subjects. "What is being done?" he asked in a thin voice, feeling weaker himself just thinking about his poor daughter's predicament.

"We have bled her highness, although not too much because of her young age, but just enough so the humors causing this fever have hopefully been purged. Her condition has improved, ever since she heard your majesty and Queen Katherine were coming to visit. She has even taken some mulled wine, watered down of course," the physician cheerfully reported, glad to be able to tell the King some good news.

"If you could, be honest with me for a moment, forget I am your King and act as if I am any regular father talking to you. What are her chances?" Arthur asked, wanting the blunt truth while Katherine was still inside with Mary. He understood that many men were not always truthful with him, in fear of angering or upsetting him, but this time he couldn't afford to be misinformed.

"Better than yesterday, and since the Princess has inherited her majesty's iron will as well as your majesty's determination to survive I say her chances are higher than most children who should have this condition," the physician replied, finding it impossible to treat his King like any other man worried about his daughter. So much more rested on his patient surviving than any other child he had taken care of in the past.

"Please, don't lie to me or make it sound better than it really is. I was ill once, here at this very place, and none of my physicians would tell me the truth. Be honest with me man, please, for the sake of my own heart," Arthur pleaded heartfeltly, feeling torn between accepting the man's explanation at face value or pressing for more. It was too important of a situation for him to accept a lie as fact, or to convince himself that Mary would be okay when she had no hope. He didn't want to believe Mary was dying, but he figured it would hurt much worse if he believed that she would survive and she ended up leaving this world cruelly. As well as that, the fate of who would take over the kingdom he had worked hard to build was a critical one, not only for him but for every person in England.

Without hesitation, the physician answered: "I cannot be sure, your majesty, these cases are so hard to judge, especially in the young. We have done everything we can; all that is left to do is to pray."

Arthur nodded and thanked the man and went back into his daughter's bedchamber. Nearly eleven years ago he had been in the same bed as Mary, stricken with a disease that was supposed to kill him. Against the odds, he survived, but he never fully regained his health after that. His daughter wasn't as healthy as he was when he was a child, due in part to how many children he and Katherine had lost and also how sickly he was. He was realistic enough to know that Mary's odds were slimmer than his own when he was ill, even if her aliment wasn't as serious as the one he once had.

Even if she did survive, Arthur could only wonder how his beloved daughter's already fragile health would fare in the aftermath.

"Papa," Mary weakly called from her bedside, holding out her hand for her father to take, drawing him from his thoughts. He knelt down next to his wife and with one he took Mary's outstretched hand, and with the other he gripped firmly onto Katherine's free hand. He was dismayed at how cold Mary's hand was and how weak her grip was, but he took comfort in the strength and love behind Katherine's hold on his hand.

"Hello Mary, how are you feeling?" Arthur asked stupidly, at a loss for words but he had to say something, anything, to make Mary feel as if she were safe. Even if he didn't want to give himself false hope, that didn't mean his daughter couldn't use it. He couldn't imagine how scared she was and said a silent prayer to God to spare Mary the pain that was being inflicted on her.

"It hurts, and I'm cold everywhere but my head. Papa, please, make it stop," Mary pleaded, tears escaping from behind her eyes, which Arthur hastened to brush away, feeling guilty for pulling out of Katherine's grip but knowing that Mary needed him more at that moment.

"Oh sweetheart, I wish I could, really I could, but don't worry it will all be over soon," Arthur impulsively soothed, feeling guilty for lying. He had no idea when Mary's pain would cease, or how it would, but he had to say something to keep her cheerful. Katherine shot a worried look at him after hearing his words, fearing the worst, that Mary's pain would end because she was going to die. "No, Katherine, not like that," he whispered, hoping that she understood his meaning.

Mary nodded and drifted back off to sleep, her childlike hands releasing the already weak grip on either of her parents' hands. Katherine and Arthur each gave their daughter a kiss on her petal-soft check and headed out of the room, knowing there was nothing they could do while she was sleeping.

Instead, the two headed to the chapel at Ludlow to pray for their daughter, hoping that God did not really intend to take her from them when she was still very young. Katherine tried very hard not to remember the terrible time when she was at the chapel in a trance, repeating the same prayers in rapid Latin for Arthur's life to be spared. God had given her a second chance with her husband; she could only hope He would be merciful with her daughter.

She had to believe that God wanted England to be ruled by a child of Arthur and herself, surely He did not want Henry to become King! Katherine truly thought that Mary was a blessing from heaven, a child sent to her and Arthur when they thought they couldn't have any children. After so many failures, Mary was the shining light in their lives, and the disappointment over her sex was almost non-existent, at least from the royal couple themselves. Katherine was aware that a Prince of Wales was preferable to a Princess of Wales, but she believed that her daughter would make an able Queen, as shrewd as her father and grandfather before her.

However, if Mary was taken from them too early, she was going to try again, even though Arthur vowed he would stop trying for Katherine's health. She would die for a healthy son, one to carry on Arthur's lineage and secure the England that they had created. Katherine was still healthy enough to bear children, although she was older than most mothers, at 29, she had no doubts that if they tried again they'd get another blessing, another Mary.

Even if Mary did survive this, Katherine intended to try again, to try and get a son. She didn't want to risk Henry uprising against his niece, thinking a female too weak to hold a throne. She knew her brother in law was more intelligent and ambitious than he let on, and that scared her more than she'd ever tell Arthur. Mary was so important to her, and she wanted so badly to see her daughter one day sit on the throne of England, but she knew that a female had a hard time holding a throne in the English patriarchal society and that any son of hers would have a better chance of continuing their vision for England. It would be a mistake not to continue to try again for a son; she was okay with risking her life for the good of her beloved adopted country and for her husband.

Arthur and Katherine, after their private thoughts on the matter were settled in their own heads, began to pray to God out loud, although their voices were scarcely at a whisper. For a rare moment, the King and Queen of England were unattended, virtually alone, lost in their own prayers and worries for the most important person in their lives.

They both figured that it had been nearly three hours when somebody came to get them, no longer than that, but Maria latter told Katherine the two were in there for the vast majority of the night and the following morning, and nobody could stir them from their prayers, not even for a meal. Both of their throats were parched and their stomachs both cried out for food, and their bodies felt weak from the lack of nourishment.

"How is she?" Arthur asked Maria, who had come to retrieve them. Maria had known Arthur just as long as her mistress had, and she could have sworn the King looked like he was a man far past the prime of his life, not a youthful soul at age 27. Maria figured it was the stress of the past day, and the idea that he may lose his daughter and heir.

Luckily, Maria was able to give the King and her most loved mistress a piece of good news. "She is well-recovered your majesties, perhaps a response from your majesties' most fervent prayers." It was a probable statement to Maria, who had watched Katherine, who was still called Catalina in those days, pray for nearly a day for her young husband who had been given up on. She had to believe that God favored this marriage, and the blessed child that was born out of it.

"Oh, thank you merciful God," Katherine piously declared, dropping to her knees in reverent thanks.

Arthur declared his thanks to Maria and to God, then rushed off to go and see his daughter, who truly was, in all respects, a miracle.

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_4 days later_

It had been a long ride back from Ludlow, and Arthur was utterly exhausted and ready to just simply eat privately before settling down for a long night's sleep.

Arthur already promised Wolsey he'd hear all about what he missed while he was gone tomorrow, and Katherine had pushed of all of her duties until the following day as well. They had been heartbroken at the thought of losing Mary, and that sapped their emotional and physical strength, as well as the long nights they stayed awake just simply watching her, unable to sleep in fear it was a terrible nightmare. They could only leave Ludlow after numerous reassurances that Mary would be well taken care of and that her illness was virtually gone.

However, when Arthur arrived for a quiet supper in his wife's apartments, he had expected her to be just as pleased as he was about their daughter's recovery, even if he could tell she was very worn out by the whole thing. Instead, Katherine looked very solemn and deep in thought, barely even acknowledging Arthur's arrival and quick kiss. She only picked at her venison and fruit, which was strange for her, as Katherine was very fond of fruit, and offered one word answers in response to the questions Arthur posed.

"Katherine, what is the matter with you? Our daughter has recovered and yet you appear as though she'd actually died," Arthur spat, regretting the harsh words as soon as they came out of his mouth, but almost glad he said them, as he was sure those words would at least get Katherine's attention. "I'm sorry, forgive me, I've very weary."

Katherine looked absolutely horrified at his words, but said nothing in response, which was a relief to Arthur, glad that she was mollified by the apology. "I'm fine, I just had a thought. We almost lost Mary, perhaps now would be the time we try again."

Arthur was surprised at her words, to say the least, as he was sure that they were settled on the state of affairs when it came to her pregnancies. He agreed that it was important that they secure somewhat of a spare heir in case Mary was truly as sickly as she was making out to be, but Arthur was always comforted by Henry's zeal for life and his health. "We don't have to, sweetheart, if you are scared it's going to hurt you even more. Linacre said..." he was cut off.

"To hell with Linacre, and the rest of them who said that we can't do it again. I am willing to lay down my life for the security of our kingdom," Katherine admitted, remembering her own thoughts in the church and her own mother's sacrifices in the pains of childbirth. "We should have never given up, we are young still and we shouldn't be content with half measures. Granted, Mary is a bright child, a worthy heir, but you know this country will never welcome her completely, not as much as they'd welcome a Prince."

"Katherine, I know you are willing to sacrifice your life for the serenity of this kingdom, but I am more selfish than that. I love you; I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't want something as foolish as this killing you! I remember my own mother almost dying bringing us into the world because my father couldn't be contented with what he had, that's not how I wish to be," Arthur zealously explained, reaching across the table to grasp his wife's hand and began to rub it with his thumb.

"I love you too, more than you'll ever know, but this is more important than our love, this is for Mary and for England," Katherine affirmed, grasping his hand tighter, but not in a crushing sort of way. "Please, if you love me, if you love Mary, if you love England, you will let us try again, just one more time." Katherine had to believe that they could have another child, even if it was just another daughter it would prove that they were capable of bearing living children still. Five miscarriages was a bad record, but Katherine wasn't willing to give up, not this easily.

Arthur brought her hand to his lips and kissed it passionately, awed once again by her bravery and determination. "If you really want it this badly, then yes, we will try again," he replied, his face lighting up to mirror hers. He would have liked to have a son, a boy to carry on the Tudor line and to be his Prince of Wales, but he had learned to content himself with Mary, who was the best female heir he was sure any kingdom could ask for. However, he had given up, for Katherine's sake because she was the only person he could ever see by his side and he would be heartbroken to lose her. Not only that, he felt guilty for inflicting so much pain on Katherine, who miscarried most likely because his physicality produced weak children who couldn't survive.

Katherine paused a few more moments before bringing up her next point, which might prove to be more problematic compared to her first request. "Have you spoken to Ambassador Mendoza recently? I know we have just returned, but before we left?" Katherine asked, hoping that he'd take the meaning. She considered a marriage between the country of her birth and that of her adopted country to be of extreme importance, and the match was the finest one in Europe so far, so she naturally feared that another bride would be offered to Charles before her sister-in-law was. She knew that her nephew, who she had never meant but had written correspondence with, would accept any bride from England over one from any other country, knowing that it would be his beloved aunt's desire to see the union take place.

"Yes, I have spoken with him, and the Emperor considers the match certainly worth consideration, so much so that he is most likely going to send envoys here in the next month, possibly longer but not too much longer than that," Arthur cheerfully reported, knowing of his wife's desire to see his sister marry into her family. He also found the match appealing, as Charles controlled a large portion of Europe, making him the most powerful monarch in all of Christendom, a monarch he would want to have as his friend rather than his enemy.

"I am sure Princess Mary is pleased," Katherine casually suggested, not disclosing her full meaning. She knew that the young woman was famous for having a temper, much like Henry, and that she often dreamed of marrying for love. Katherine was sure that this spoiled behavior, which was what it was, even if Katherine was fond of her sister-in-law, was product of being her mother's favorite. Arthur's two youngest siblings were both spoiled and Katherine hoped that this marriage would make Mary mature just a bit.

"I haven't told her yet," before Katherine could object, Arthur rapidly continued, "I figure it is for the best, I know how she can get. I imagine once the envoys come she will realize she doesn't have much of a choice." He had planned on consulting Mary before arranging a marriage, but he knew this match was too fine of one to pass up, even if his sister's feelings were hurt by it. He also knew talking to the thirteen year old would do him no good; she wouldn't want to marry foreign even if she understood it was her duty, and he figured his mother would be able to pacify her once the envoys came, and he was willing to wait up to two years before sending her to Charles, as he thought thirteen was far too young for a serious marriage.

Katherine smiled; pleased to see everything she wished for was finally falling into place. Soon she would have reaffirmed her ties to her native land and give England a Prince.

* * *

She couldn't believe this was happening, this wasn't **supposed** to happen.

When she agreed to become the Duke of York's mistress, due to her affection for him and her father's ambition for her to get a better husband, Bessie never even considered the idea of having his child. She always thought it would be a brief affair, one without little consequences. She didn't expect for it to last long, she didn't expect Henry to actually love her, and she expected she'd gain a decent husband from it.

Instead, at sixteen, she was pregnant with a bastard child, one who could never inherit his father's duchies or mass wealth, and she had earned the distrust and dislike of the Queen.

She never imagined that she could fall so quickly with child, she had only been his mistress for a mere two weeks! Yet, there was no doubting it. Her father paid a midwife well to exam her and to keep quiet about the whole thing. There was a real risk that Henry wouldn't accept the child, even if the whole court would know in a matter of months that Bessie wasn't simply Henry's friend, she was his mistress. She had no husband, so everyone could only be able to guess the paternity of her unborn child. It was so shameful!

As well as that, the most distasteful of judgments would come from the Queen herself. Bessie had once been a favored companion of the wonderful Queen and thought that the Queen also enjoyed her company. Now, all she was able to get from her mistress were cold stares, her eyes constantly probing her, not able to hide her displeasure. Often times, one of the Queen's senior ladies, such as Maria de Salinas, would single Bessie out for the most unpleasant tasks in hopes of humbling her.

When she told Henry about this ignoble treatment, casually mentioning it one day, he was furious, calling curses at her mistress and vowing to tell his brother. Bessie was able to persuade him to leave it alone, but once she told him about the child, if she even had the courage, if he choose to acknowledge it Bessie was sure that he would send her away, in fear that one of the Queen's ladies would harm it. Bessie could never believe that her gentle mistress would ever harm an innocent child, or even Bessie herself for all of her discourse, yet she wasn't sure about Maria, who was so fiercely and blindly devoted to the Queen.

Usually, she would never have dreamed of summoning Henry, but today she felt she had no choice. She feared that if she waited until his nightly summon that her resolve would weaken and that she would never tell him about the child, or wait too long. She figured if she told him early and with enough time, he would be able to ponder the decision of recognizing it or not. She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Henry to come.

She hoped for the unborn child's sake, be it boy or girl, that their father recognized it as his own, even if it was doomed to be branded a bastard. Life was not kind to an unrecognized royal bastard, especially from an unmarried mother like Bessie, and she could only fear for what would happen if Henry was not willing to acknowledge the child as his own. She knew her father would send her away as soon as she began to show, if Henry chose not to recognize it, and once she had the child he would place it on the doorstep of some peasant family, giving them another burden instead of having the Blount family be tainted by Bessie's disgrace.

Her father was not unkind when she told him the news, but he wasn't overly pleased either. Bessie wanted to weep in sorrow when he told her Henry may not recognize it, and if he didn't, he would give the child away. However, he also told her there was a good chance Henry may accept the child, as he would certainly want to prove his fertility to the courtiers, who all were aware of the Queen's numerous miscarriages. She could only pray that her father was right.

"Bessie, I came as soon as I got your message, what is it?" Henry asked, taking her hands into his and sitting down with her on the bed. They were all alone; Bessie's family had vacated the apartment once they knew that the Duke of York was coming to speak to her.

"Your grace… I… erm, you see…" she cursed herself inwardly, trying to find the courage to go on instead of stumbling.

"Bessie, whatever it is, I can handle it," Henry gently soothed, not wanting her to be frightened of him.

"Your grace, I am with child, still in the early days, but they are sure," Bessie finally explained, keeping her eyes and head completely downcast, nervously awaiting Henry's response. She knew that her unborn child's fate rested on it, as well as her own. It was a bad strain of luck, but that didn't mean that Bessie didn't hope that it would turn out for the better.

"Bessie, that is, oh that is wonderful!" Henry excitedly exclaimed, pulling Bessie up from the bed and embracing her warmly, before nervously backing away, his face spelling out a fear that he had somehow hurt the child. "I wouldn't have even been able to tell, you are as beautiful as ever" he shyly put in.

Bessie blushed at this. "Thank you, your grace; I was so worried you'd be displeased… I had no idea what to think," she stammered.

"I could never be displeased at this sort of news; you have made me so happy. I understand the child won't be born out of wedlock, but Bessie, we have created a life," Henry explained, feeling immense joy. No matter what Katherine and Arthur tried to do to downgrade him, play down his importance in public, they couldn't take away this triumph. They had tried for ages to get a healthy heir, and all they were able to get was a girl after eleven years of marriage. Henry had gotten his mistress pregnant in a mere two weeks.

Bessie and him had proved that even if Arthur and Katherine were uncomfortable with the idea of him as King, if he ever did become King, as Mary's recent illness showed anything could happen, he had succeeded in one of the primary duties of kings, already, at age 17.

"So you will accept the child, as your own?" Bessie asked, clasping her hands over her mouth as soon as the words escaped her lips. Her father warned her not to outwardly ask this question, but Bessie foolishly let it slip.

Henry smiled and was quick to reassure her. "Of course I will, I wouldn't dream of leaving you out to dry. I have plenty of money to provide for the child, he'll have the best tutors and nursemaids and a wonderful governess, and he can live at one of my estates, where you can also go once the child grows bigger."

Bessie's face lit up at this proclamation, but then it lapsed into another frown. "What will the Queen think?" she thought out loud, speaking more to herself than to Henry.

"No matter what she thinks, this is my matter, not her majesty's. Nothing is going to happen to this child, I will give him the best," Henry stressed.

God help Katherine if she did anything to interfere with his son and Bessie.

* * *

"Stop sulking Mary, you look dull," Sir Thomas Boleyn harshly scolded his oldest child, lightly grabbing the sixteen-year-old's arm before they were admitted to their audience with the King. "If his majesty is going to consider you for service in the Queen's household, you must appear happy to be here."

Anne Boleyn, now fourteen, looked on at this scene with weary eyes, not really paying attention to her tense father as she was anxious to see how the boy who rescued her from death eleven years ago looked today. She had heard stories in France about how King Arthur of England was the most magnanimous monarch in all of Christendom, and the only picture she had of her King was one that was severely outdated, the picture of the brave boy who pulled her from the depths of the water.

However, her father warned her not to mention it to the King when they received him; in fact he told her and Mary not to speak unless acknowledged. Anne couldn't imagine that the King would be mean to her or her family, he seemed to be fond of her father, who got favorable ambassador positions, but if Thomas Boleyn was anything it was diplomatic, so Anne headed to his advice.

"I'd rather be at Hever, mourning for mother," Mary sharply retorted, pulling her arm out of his grasp and staring at him sharply. This was a rare display from Mary; Anne was quite shocked by the whole thing, but knew that Mary was deeply hurt by the death of their mother. Anne missed her often too, but it had been nearly a year, and her poor mother died when she was in France. Anne hadn't even been able to say goodbye, and neither had Mary. George and their father were able to leave court for a few weeks in order to be with her in death, but Anne and Mary couldn't have made it there, and their father did not tell them of their mother's illness until she had passed, something Mary never forgave him for.

There were other things that happened to Mary Boleyn in France, things that Anne was ashamed to even think about. Their father, while visiting on one of his diplomatic missions, pushed her poor sister into King Francis' bed, and there Mary had been "honored" as his mistress, which included not only sleeping with the King of France himself but also with his many favored courtiers, who wanted to ride his famed "English mare." Anne could remember nights in France, when she was in the service of the greatly pious Queen Claude, when Mary was sobbing uncontrollably, even when she appeared at court the next morning with a cheerful smile on her face. Anne didn't blame Mary for hating their father after what he put her through, but she still didn't plan on following his example. She wished to impress her father with her intelligence, not with sharp words.

Anne was almost pleased that she was far too young to catch the infamously lecherous king's eye, and that many of the men in France viewed her as a baby, still the young girl of nine that she was when she was arrived. In fact, Francis praised her virtue when she left, telling her to stay pure in the English court. Anne didn't quite understand why she would have to worry about it, but she smiled and promised King Francis she would anyway.

Anne would miss France, which was clear to her as soon as arrived in England. She stood out immediately because she wore a French style gown and headdress, while most of the ladies she had encountered thus far at Whitehall were wearing the dull English gable hoods or the similar Spanish hood.

"Stop it, now is not the time. His majesty is awaiting our pleasure," Thomas Boleyn scolded once again before smiling down at Anne, his favorite of his daughters. He couldn't help but admire how the gawky young girl that he had once believed could never make a favorable marriage had grown into a fashionable young lady, carrying herself elegantly as most of the other women at court. He was glad he wouldn't have to worry about one of his daughter's behaving favorably towards the King and Queen. "Are you excited Anne?" he asked, favoring her with a paternal smile.

"Yes, sir, I am very anxious to meet his majesty," Anne replied, returning her father's smile weakly before he turned around. Although her gown made her feel like an outcast when she walked the corridors of Whitehall, she was very glad of it now, as the richness of the fabric and of the jewelry she had chosen made her feel more comfortable with meeting the most powerful man in England.

Mary also looked very beautiful, as always. Anne was once envious of her sister's beauty but now she was glad that she was naturally plainer than Mary, because she was able to focus more on her studies and less on flirting with the men, who often gave her sister attention. Because of her ability to shy away from men, Anne was fluent in French and even knew Latin, while her sister never even bothered to learn much French, just enough to communicate. Anne was also in no great hurry to marry, all of that confused her despite her time in France, and she knew that Mary would naturally attract a great number of suitors.

"Sir Thomas Boleyn, your majesty, as well as his daughter's; Mistress Mary Boleyn and Mistress Anne Boleyn," one of King Arthur's grooms announced as soon as Sir Thomas pushed passed the doors of the throne room, not before shooting a convincing glare at Mary, warning her with his eyes to hold her tongue.

"Sir Thomas, I am so pleased to see you again! I trust your missions in France were carried out well? You are back much sooner than I expected," Arthur jovially expressed, truly happy to see Boleyn again, as the man was one of the shrewdest and able in his kingdom, a welcome member on his Privy Council. He stepped off of his throne and walked up to the bowing Boleyn, as well as his two daughters, who were deep in their curtseys.

"I am back, your majesty, and very pleased to be so. I have also brought my daughters back from France, as they have both completed their education there and are ready to be of service to their King and Queen," Boleyn replied, nudging his nervous daughters forward. Once they were before their King, the two girls curtsied once again.

"Anne Boleyn that cannot be you! I remember when she was very young, Sir Thomas, playing with his grace and Charles Brandon in the garden," Arthur fondly announced, lifting Anne's chin up so he could look at her more closely. He could see the resemblance to the three year old that had proved his manhood to his father, grandmother, and even to his wife all those years ago.

"Your majesty, it is a pleasure to see you again," Anne replied, smiling up at the handsome King. The memories of the day were fuzzy to her, but George and Mary often recollected the day to her, and soon she was able to truly believe that she was the girl who the Duke of York and the Prince of Wales argued over rescuing.

"Wait until Henry sees you again! And this must be Mary; she has grown very beautiful Sir Thomas. You are blessed to have such children. I am sure her majesty will be pleased with these editions to her household, it is agreeable to you Sir Thomas, Anne, Mary," Arthur proposed, happy to see that these girls were back in England, their homes, and he was infinitely grateful to Boleyn for the diplomatic work he did for him.

Boleyn's son, George, was growing into a fine man as well, one that Arthur would like to someday have in his household, to also honor Boleyn. He often saw the boy at court with his father and uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, but George also spent a great deal of time in the Boleyn apartments with his tutor, and he was also a friend of Henry's.

"I am grateful to your majesty for this appointment, and I am anxious to begin to service her majesty in anyway," Anne replied, noticing that Mary was too dumbfounded to speak; she was clearly overawed by Arthur's gracious nature compared to Francis' brazen one. She didn't not want to stay completely silent, thinking that it would be rude to do so to one's King.

"I am sure her majesty will be pleased to have you, Mistress Anne, and that my brother will be pleased to see you again," Arthur whimsically replied.

Little did he know how true that would be.

_Wow, done! Finally, that took me too long guys. So now Anne's here, hopefully you'll all be happy, but she is a lot younger than she was in the Tudors when she came back to England, so she's not quite as fiery, although I tried to show her boldness already. I messed around a lot with timelines, all in the fun of things, hope it didn't make you guys too angry! Until next time, please review, next chappie is looking at Brandon/Mary, Anne/Henry meeting, Bessie/Henry as well as Katherine's reaction to Bessie's condition. See you than folks, and review! :D_


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! I'm glad everybody enjoyed the last chapter, I can finally write Anne Boleyn now! This chapter may not be as exciting as the last one, but it will make everything come together for future chapters.

Disclaimer: All characters that are recognizable are properties of Showtime and history. All liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events and are taken for the purposes of the story. Just thought I'd remind everybody :] Jane Parker appears, and she's the same age as Mary Boleyn in my story.

I've been meaning to slot in Brandon/Mary but that is getting pushed to the next chapter, so for everyone expecting that, please hang tight!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_October 29, 1520_

"So you are her majesty's newest additions, Mary and Anne Boleyn?" Maria de Salinas examined the two newest girls closely and with a shrewd eye, noticing that they were nervous and were clearly trying to hide it. The younger of the two was a little bit more comfortable looking, displaying an air of confidence Maria didn't often recognize in children her age; while the oldest of the sisters was shyly looking at the ground, unsure of how to act in the presence of the older woman. They were pretty girls, as most of the Queen's ladies were, and Maria had no doubts the two Boleyn sisters would fit right in.

"Yes madam," the skinner and younger of the two replied. "My name is Anne and this is my sister Mary."

"Please come in then and follow me. I will present you to her majesty" Maria invited, sure that the two girls were who they said they were. Maria was pleased by the respectful way the two sisters addressed her and their seeming awe to be there and to wait on her most beloved Queen. She could only hope the two newest additions would be unlike that insolent Bessie Blount, who brazenly upset her majesty by being the mistress of the Duke of York. Maria wasn't fond of the girl who upset the Queen and made her more anxious than she already was, and often singled out the girl for the most humbling tasks when the Queen didn't notice.

The last thing her mistress needed was two more young silly girls to stir up trouble.

"Your Majesty, Mistress Mary and Anne Boleyn, your newest ladies in waiting," Maria introduced the two girls, who swept into well-practiced curtsies as soon as the Queen walked into her presence chamber. Their father had warned them that morning that they had best not often the greatly pious and powerful Queen, who had massive influence over her husband. Mary and Anne would never risk offended the Queen, and so kept their eyes safely downcast, and prayed that their new mistress would be kind to them.

The Queen walked over to them very slowly, as her heavy gown and great dignity prevented her from walking rapidly or too eagerly to her new servants. She was already pleased by their manners. "Hello Mistresses Boleyn. My, this may get confusing," Katherine lightly jested, and she could see a smile tug at the lips of both of the girls. "I must find a way acknowledge the two of you differently."

Neither girl dared to respond, not wanting to offend the Queen by speaking out of turn nor before she bade them too, although Anne had a good suggestion for her new mistress.

Katherine, with a common casual sweep of her arm, motioned for the girls to rise out of their curtsies so she could see them better. They were attractive young woman, her reports told her that they were sixteen and fourteen and had recently come back from France. The eldest one, Mary, was the example of English beauty at it's finest, while the younger one, Anne, was darker and more exotic looking, and was pointedly dressed in a French gown. She hoped that they wouldn't be silly and foolish, like Bessie Blount and some of her other teenaged ladies. "Do either of you know what I should do about this?" she asked the two girls, truly hoping that they did have an idea as she was unsure how to address two unmarried sisters, but also hoping that to two girls would break out of their nervousness.

"Your majesty, if it pleases you, you may call me Mademoiselle Boleyn," Anne suggested, liking that idea. She did enjoy her time in France and would like to be denoted as a Frenchwomen instead of an English one, even if she was English at heart. She hardly knew her native country, after all, and France was more like a home to her than she imagined England ever could be. The court was exciting and there was so much dancing and fun to be had, not always in Queen Claude's household, but in Francis' sister's, the Duchess Marguerite, her ladies were always encouraged to dance, read, talk, or play at cards. While Queen Katherine seemed like a kind mistress, Anne couldn't imagine that she'd have nearly as much fun in her household as she did in France.

"Well Mistress and Mademoiselle Boleyn, welcome to my household and back to England. Lady Maria de Salinas will show you to your chambers, which you both will be sharing with Mistress Blount and Lady Jane Parker, both of which are near your ages. Also, she will be showing you what your specific duties will be and some of the rules I have," Katherine explained with a smile, leaving the two girls alone with Maria, who showed them to their room and allowed them to get settled in for a few hours before making them report for duty.

"Hello, I'm Bessie Blount," a vibrant young blonde girl introduced herself to Mary and Anne, a kind smile engulfing her face as she greeted the two new arrivals.

Mary, taking an immediate liking to the girl, replied right away. "Hello, I'm Mary Boleyn and this is my sister, Anne. We've been in France since we were young, as far back as I can remember, but I'm glad to be back, but I don't know about Anne."

"I'm Jane Parker," another blonde girl replied before Anne could defend herself against her sister's playful bantering. Both of the sisters took a natural dislike to this Jane, who was very pushy, shoving herself into their conversation. As she spoke, Bessie rolled her eyes a little bit, causing Mary to choke back a giggle. "Just to warn you, England is NOTHING like France. We have to go to mass five times a day sometimes! And Queen Katherine and the King often dine alone together, and are hardly apart. That lecherous King Francis is anything like our King…" she was cut off.

"What would you know, Lady Jane, you clearly have never been to France," Anne shot back, angry at this girl for presuming that Mary and Anne were far too stuck up to handle the English ways. Although Anne may have preferred France, since it was all she ever had known, that didn't meant that she liked the fact that this Jane Parker was accusing her of being less than English. She always viewed her King as being Arthur II and never would have sided with France if England had waged war on them. Even if she had the tendencies of a Frenchwoman, she was an Englishwoman at heart.

Jane let out a sigh at this proclamation, but had no words to defend herself against this attack by the petite girl, so she turned her back and walked out of the chamber that the four girls now shared. "Anne! That is no way to make friends!" Mary chided. Although she may have found Jane Parker just as tiresome as Anne did, she didn't think it was a good idea to insult her, since had clearly been in the Queen's service for a long time.

Anne simply ignored her sister's warning and motioned for the one maid to change her into the gown that was given to her last night by the Queen's fast working seamstress. It was a frumpy thing in Anne's opinion, far different from the things she would ever choose to wear, but she knew she had to wear it now that she was in the Queen's household. After she had changed, she unpinned her French headdress and had the maid put in the English one that all the other ladies wore. She frowned as soon as it was placed over her black ringlet curls, not liking the way it suit her. She already longed for the banquets and other leisure time, where she could wear what pleased her and not what the mandated gown was for all of the ladies.

As Anne was dressing her sister and Bessie were giggling and exchanging gossip about anything and everything that was common ground, discussing royal families and routines of England. Anne listened closely from behind the book she was appearing to be reading. She wanted to be prepared for new life as well as she could and although she didn't want to join in on the conversation, since she found it trivial, she figured she could learn a few things from listening. When the conversation began to drift from daily life to the attractive men at court, Anne began to drift off to sleep.

"Anne, we have to go back now, Mistress Salinas has to show us what we are to do everyday," Mary commanded her younger sister, lightly tugging on the sleeve of her gown to wake her. She was tempted to let her younger sister sleep, in hopes of turning their father against her, the obvious favorite, but she decided against it. Anne was her sister, after all, and they were both new to this environment and natural allies.

Anne simply nodded and followed her sister back to Queen Katherine's apartments. It was a short tutorial that Maria gave them; Mary had more honorable jobs like filling up water basins for bathes and finger bowls for eating, while Anne was very unhappy to be stuck with bringing the Queen's dirty laundry down to the washing area, the very same job she had in France. Although these weren't there only duties, it was clear that Anne's age made her the likely candidate for doing all the ignoble work.

After they had done what Maria commanded them to, Katherine dismissed her young ladies when Arthur sent a message that he was coming down for dinner. She liked to allow the younger, unmarried maids to have more leisure time than her senior ladies, since they were youthful and looking for husbands. She didn't think it was best for them to stay cooped up with her all day, hidden from their potential suitors.

Anne quickly changed back into her gown that she had worn earlier that day and headed to the Boleyn family apartments, where she knew her brother would be.

When she was in France, she often grew lonely from the constant routines of women, unless she was in the Duchess Marguerite's charge that day. When she was stuck in Queen Claude's household, life was lonely for her. Mary never paid attention to her, she was too busy being courted by Francis, or later, when their affair ended, she was too busy hiding in shame. Anne never got along with the other girls in the household, they found Anne to be too intelligent and strange, and they were jealous of her talents in dancing, music, and languages. So instead of dwelling on her sometimes unhappy existence, even if she generally enjoyed her time in France, she wrote to her brother George. They enjoyed a regular correspondence when she was in France and when she came to England she was surprised to see how easy it was to converse with her brother.

George was funny and also had the same interests as her, and she enjoyed talking to him more so than the boring ladies of court, who didn't like to do things unless their prospective suitors were doing the same. George was always very kind to her as well, as a child he shied her away from attacks from Mary while they were playing, and he often told her stories of when she was a little girl and all the mischief the two of them used to get into at Hever under their governess' nose. Anne couldn't think of a better person to spend her time with.

"How was your first day, Mademoiselle Boleyn?" George asked, lightly shoving her as she sat down on the bed next to him.

"It was lovely; Queen Katherine seems like a very pleasant woman to be around. Mary has already made friends with Bessie Blount, one of the girls that shares a chamber with us. The other girl is named Jane Parker, and is she a snake!" Anne exclaimed which caused her brother to laugh.

"Jane Parker, never heard of her, I'll have to ask around about her. Did you say Bessie Blount though?" George asked, well aware of whom Bessie was. Since their father had allowed George to come to court with him, George made friends with the seventeen-year-old Duke of York and his friends. George knew how besotted his friend was with the girl who he didn't see anything special about, but George was unaware, like everybody else at court, of Bessie's current condition.

"Yes why?" Anne asked, her curiosity sparked. She had seen nothing wrong with Bessie, in many ways she was just like Mary; gossipy, flirty, not much to the both of them.

"Bessie is the Duke of York's mistress, has been for quite some time now. The Queen does not like her, and Henry once told me, when we were hunting, that the Queen's ladies, who are fiercely loyal to her majesty, single her out for the most ignoble of tasks. Be careful about becoming to close to her, and tell Mary the same," George warned. While Bessie was the rising star in Henry's eyes, she was like poison to the rest of the court. Since King Arthur was so heavily influenced by his wife, being out of Katherine of Aragon's favor was like being shut out from royal favor all together. George knew that his father wouldn't want Anne and Mary to be too close to somebody like Bessie.

"Why on earth with he pick Bessie, of all girls? Granted she's a pretty thing, but there are plenty of those around here, even I can tell and I've only been here for a week!" Anne exclaimed.

"You are too young to understand Anne. Maybe next year I'll tell you why," George half-teased. He knew that Anne hated to be treated like she was a child, but he thought it was better not to tell her. He felt it best to shelter his youngest sister, in hopes that she wouldn't turn out like his eldest sister. George knew that Henry was attracted to Bessie because it was his first taste of freedom from his brother and sister-in-law's iron grasp on him. He was young, lusty and passionate, and for a while everybody expected him to go into the church. Bessie was just the first thing Henry found when he came of age.

Anne pouted but decided to press the issue no more, at least not with George. She would have to just find out herself what was so special about Bessie Blount, and why the Duke of York would pick to have a mistress like her.

Anne's memories were fuzzy of the day when her King saved her, but she did remember a small boy, a boy very full of life, that tried to rescue her. He pulled her into a hug when she had been saved by his brother, and earlier, when they were playing their game; he had invited her to play and kissed her hand as a means of greeting. This was the only image she had of the young Duke of York, and she hardly knew anything about him. She had no idea what kind of person he was, but her curiosity was spiked about this relationship he had.

The brother and sister chatted for a few more minutes before there was a knock at George's door, and Anne could hear the slight muffled sound of male laughter from beyond it.

"George, up for a game of tennis?" one of the boys from beyond the door asked. Anne could hardly see him, only the multiple boots that stood outside the door were clear to her.

"Anne, will you be okay if I play a game of tennis?" George asked, not wanting to leave her alone, since he knew how she scorned the company of her own sex most of the time. There were always other days to play tennis with his friends, and his sister was new here.

Anne smiled at her brother, touched at his sweetness. Before she could reply however, she heard a harsh laugh from the other side of the door. "Didn't know you had to ask your mistress George…"

"She's not my mistress, she's my sister, and she's fourteen years old," George quickly defended himself against Charles Brandon's attack. Brandon couldn't possibly see Anne from where he was standing, or else he surely wouldn't have made that comment, as Anne was clearly related to George and far too young for him to be romantically involved with.

Anne could hear the man who made the comment mutter an apology before another one began to speak. "I didn't know you had a sister George."

"I have two of them, your grace, Mary and Anne Boleyn. They have just come back from France and are now in the Queen's household," George explained, motioning for Anne to come stand next to him. "Your grace, may I present my sister Anne Boleyn?" At the sound of this proclamation, Anne dropped down into a curtsy and kissed the boy's hand standing in front of her.

"Your grace," she greeted, keeping her head and eyes downcast, like she always did with royalty and nobility, even though she was dying to see what the Duke of York looked like.

"Anne Boleyn, that name sounds familiar. Let me look at you," Henry commanded, recognizing the name from somewhere but he couldn't quite put a face to it.

Anne obediently rose from her curtsy and stared at the handsome Duke straight on, unafraid. All she could see was the rosy little boy who was so unhappy at his chance of heroism being thwarted by his older brother. Although it was humorous to her, she would never dare let on, and could only hope that he wouldn't' still be offended about all those years ago and take a disliking to her.

"I remember her Henry; she was the girl that Arthur saved from the pond that one time. Margaret Beaufort gave her a sweetmeat," Charles Brandon piped in, instantly remembering that day and how angry Henry was at being thwarted, but later, in private, he confessed that he was pleased that his father and grandmother would have rather had him save the young girl since he was so much healthier than Arthur. Brandon never thought he'd see the girl again.

"Oh yes, I see you are much older now and hopefully more graceful on your feet, Mistress Boleyn?" Henry teased, averting his own embarrassment at the memory of the day. Arthur's reign had started that day, since his father made it clear which son he'd rather sacrifice if it came down to it. He remembered his childish proclamation of joy after his grandmother stressed to Arthur and Katherine that she would have rather had Henry save the young girl, but as he grew older and the event played through his matured mind, he could see now that they didn't want to risk Arthur's life and that Henry's was far more disposable. It angered him and made him feel useless, something he always tried to make up.

"Yes, your grace, I believe I am," Anne replied with a smile, glad that Henry wasn't resentful over that day towards her.

"She can come with George, there are other ladies watching down there, perhaps she can get to know them," Henry invited, knowing that Bessie would be down there watching him and that if it came down to it, Anne could sit with Bessie. The girl seemed socially acceptable enough to Henry.

"Thank you, your grace," Anne replied, grateful to the Duke for inviting her so she wouldn't be bored the rest of the day or be forced to go and socialize with her sister and whatever friends she was making. She bobbled another quick curtsy to Henry.

Henry simply nodded, no longer concerned, or interested, in the sister of his friend.

* * *

_January 15, 1521_

It soon became clear to Bessie that she could no longer hide her pregnancy from the Queen, and that was not something she was entirely pleased about.

She was five months into it now, and she and Henry had been able to successful hide the growing child in her belly from the King, Queen, and the rest of the court. Until about November, Bessie didn't even show signs of weight gain, and during December the whole court was so preoccupied about Christmas that Bessie hardly needed to worry about a suspicious eye catch the fact that her gowns didn't quite fit the same way as they used to.

Now it was the New Year, and Bessie could no longer procrastinate the unavoidable discomfort.

She had to tell the Queen.

She already told Henry that she couldn't hide this any longer, and he arranged for her to go to one of his estates where she could rest until the child was delivered. Now all that was left for her to take leave of the Queen, at least for a little while. It was nerve-racking, because she knew the news would not be greeted well by her mistress. She was already angry about the relationship between Bessie and Henry, and made no secret of it, but Bessie couldn't imagine how furious she was going to be when she found out.

It was enough to make Bessie want to shy away from the task and just leave, telling Henry to take care of it for her, but she knew that wasn't right. The Queen was a kind woman, pious and gentle. She knew that the Queen would never make her serve her while she was heavy with a child, no matter whose child it was, and would give her the proper leave so she could deliver a healthy child. She knew that no matter how angry Queen Katherine got, she would never take it out on Bessie and Henry's innocent child.

She knew that Queen Katherine was fiercely devoted to the enhancement of her little daughter, who wasn't as well supported as she would have liked. Little Princess Mary came to court for Christmas, where her parents doted on her as usual, but Bessie could notice, as many others could, that there was something amiss about the Princess' state of health. She was frail looking and had a certain solemnity that no other four year olds possessed. Many brushed it off as good manners, but Bessie thought the little girl was too weak to do anything else.

Bessie knew that her bastard, as much as it hurt to call her child that, would upset the balance of Queen Katherine's ambition to see her daughter as Queen of England. Bessie feared for the safety of her child, especially if it was male, when it grew older and if the Princess Mary remained the King and Queen's only heir. She knew that her child had no right to inherit, but many supporters of the Queen and Princess may see her child as a threat and see to it that it be harmed or else somehow put out of the picture. Bessie couldn't stand the thought of that.

She could only pray that her child was a girl, for its own safety, or that the Queen safely delivered of a prince. Nobody would question the ability of a prince born to the great King Arthur and the good Queen Katherine to rule, and Bessie's child would be left unmolested by those who might see it as a threat. She knew that the King and Queen were trying for another child, but Bessie could only pray that a miracle could happen for them. Given the Queen's record in childbirth, Bessie knew that it was unlikely, but it would make her child's safety secure, so she had to pray.

She walked solemnly up to the Queen when she noticed that she was left unattended for a moment. "Would you like me to brush your hair, your majesty?" Bessie offered sweetly, trying to butter up the Queen for the harsh news she had to tell her.

"Thank you Mistress Blount, I would like that very much," Katherine replied, surprised at her offer. As of late, Bessie had tried to shy away from being alone or too close to Katherine, since she knew her opinion on her liaison with the Duke of York. However, Katherine was in a cheerful mood, uplifted by the news of her daughter's safe return back to Ludlow after Christmas and that her sprits were not down by having to leave court, since she knew Mary liked to spend time with her and Arthur.

Bessie took Katherine's hair in her hands and applied her gently ministrations, pleased to see that her mistress was not bothered by her offer, rather she was pleased. Bessie could only hope this would soften the blow, however unlikely her hope was.

When she was done, she carefully sat the Queen's hairbrush onto her vanity and just stood there, awkwardly. "Your majesty, I have something to tell you," she began.

"Yes, Mistress Blount?" Katherine half-heartily asked, not really paying to attention to Bessie anymore, focusing instead on which necklace she wanted to wear tonight when she met with Arthur. She always liked to look her best for Arthur, even if it was just the two of them alone.

"Well, I, erm, I am with child your majesty," Bessie spattered out, dropping down into a curtsy as soon as the words spilled out of her mouth.

Like she expected would happen, Katherine dropped her heavy necklace and stared at Bessie, where she could clearly see the growing bump, even when Bessie was lowered. "Who's child is it?" She felt like she needed to ask, even if she already knew the unpleasant and very unwelcome answer.

"It is the Duke of York's, your majesty, and the reason I tell you this is not out of spite, your majesty, I truly have no ill-intent to upset your majesty. I just request leave of your majesty's service for a while, so my child can be born in a safe place," Bessie respectfully requested, even though she knew she really had no right to ask anything from her mistress.

"So his grace intends to send you to one of his estates, I presume? And he intends to recognize the bastard as his own?" Katherine asked, and despite her calm demur, her voice was laced with anger and venom.

"I believe that is his grace's intent, your majesty," Bessie responded, keeping her head down and her eyes downcast, not daring or wanting to look upon the face of her mistress, although she could tell by her voice that she was unhappy with the whole thing, as Bessie suspected she would be.

"If he does recognize it, tell his grace that the child may only be called a FitzYork, he will not be a FitzTudor. Make sure he is aware of that Mistress Blount. And I give you leave, freely, to leave, and to never return. I will arrange a marriage for you after your child is born," Katherine commanded, her dignity fighting her anger and desire to slap the foolish girl who threatened to upset everything she had worked so hard for. She wanted to marry the girl off to somebody unambitious, so she would never have to see her face again; a man who would rather reside in the country than at court.

"Yes, your majesty, thank you, your majesty," Bessie obediently replied, kissing the Queen's hand before stalking out of her chamber so she could hurriedly pack her things, wanting to be out of the Queen's sight as soon as possible, in fear that she would change her mind. Even if she didn't' want to be discharged out of her service, she didn't want to continue to be around a woman who was very unhappy and angry at her.

Katherine stood for a moment in silence after Bessie had left, unsure of how to deal with the newest developments. Then, it came to her, and a smile slowly spread across her face.

"Maria! Summon the King, quickly. This cannot wait."

* * *

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," Arthur calmly replied after Katherine had explained the newest situation to him.

He truly hadn't expected his brother to impregnate a woman, let alone sleep with one. He never thought Henry was the type of boy who would take a mistress, who were always discarded in a matter of months. He had always thought his brother saw himself as a chivalrous knight that stayed away from the sins of lust and focused on saving damsels in distress. He never thought his brother to be the type of person that bedded unmarried maidens.

"Oh who cares about that?! Think about what this will mean for Mary and her sucession rights. If the child is a boy…" she was cut off.

"If the child is a male, it won't matter. He, or she, is still a bastard, unsuited to even inherit Henry's titles or wealth, let alone threaten a trueborn daughter of the King and Queen of England's right to inherit the throne," Arthur rationalized. No Englishman that he knew would ever see a bastard, even a male one, as a legitimate ruler, and would rather see a trueborn female inherit. Besides, Henry was still set to inherit if Mary proved unfit to, not his bastard child.

"We have to send Henry into the church, in case he decides to father more of them!" Katherine exclaimed, sure that this was the right thing to do. As a priest, Henry would be bond to solemn vows of chastity, that as a Catholic, Katherine couldn't' see any person breaking. It was the perfect solution.

Anne Boleyn, meanwhile, listened on the King and Queen's conversation as she was casually going about her business. Queen Katherine was unaware that she was even around, and she didn't want to reveal herself. This information was too interesting for her to stop hearing. She finally understood why Queen Katherine didn't like Bessie Blount, and why Bessie had left in a hurry all the sudden. She leaned in closer for more.

"I won't have my only heir, my spare if you will, going into the church because you fear needlessly. This is a new dynasty, if you recall, and I will not have my father's work ruined because you do not believe in my brother's intentions. Henry stays single and unmolested. Besides, what makes you think he will even listen to us? He has a vast amount of money and he could raise an army if we ever provoked him. Now that is far more dangerous than his bastard child," Arthur explained, and in a rare moment, standing up for himself against his wife.

Anne smiled at this, happy that the Duke of York wouldn't be forced to enter the church. She enjoyed his company, even had a little bit of an attraction towards him, even if he never noticed her when she tagged along with her brother when they went riding or something. She didn't think Henry would ever harm a human being in pursuit of a throne.

"We could use Bessie, his whore, as a means of coaxing him. You would promise that Bessie would get a finer match than expected if he simply just submitted himself into the clergy…" she was cut off again.

"That is a terrible thing to do, especially to our family and one of our heirs. Henry stays, Katherine, and that's the end of it," Arthur sharply commanded, stalking out of her chamber in anger, not even noticing Anne as he walked by.

Katherine stood alone, aghast at her suggestion being brushed away, and very slowly, in the unknown presence of one of her ladies, began to cry, not even noticing when Anne darted slyly out of the apartments in fear.

_Short! Ahh! Boring! Ahh! Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it, even if I'm not sure what to think about. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed last chapter, 163 reviews so far! You guys are amazing. Until next time folks, please review :)_


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! I just would like to thank everyone for all of their reviews, alerts, and favorites recently; this amount of support has truly been amazing, way more than I ever expected, so thank you all so much!

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history, I claim no credit, I just play around with history, not make it ;]. All liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken for the story. You've been warned :D (P.S. Harry is what Elizabeth of York calls Henry, Duke of York, so when you see that it's him, and she calls the dead Henry VII Henry. So even when it's her thoughts, its Harry and Henry, but everywhere else it's just same old 'Henry'. Sorry for the possible confusion!)

Lastly, if you guys are fans of AU and crossover, please check out **"The Enchanted Prince"** by BoleynofAragon21. It's incredible, and I highly recommend it :)

Enjoy!

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_January 16, 1521_

She hadn't had dinner with, or talked to Harry, her affection name that she still used for her seventeen year old son, in a very long time, nearly two months. Elizabeth of York didn't think her influence really mattered as much as it clearly did, and she cursed herself inwardly for staying away from court for so long, and away from her youngest son, who had gotten himself into trouble since she had been gone.

She didn't know why, but when winter rolled around, she began to feel weak and requested that she leave court for a while. Arthur was only too happy to oblige his mother, telling her to take as much time as she needed, and Elizabeth had enjoyed herself. Arthur told her to pick any place of residence that she wanted, and despite the memories of the place, Elizabeth picked Richmond.

It was nice to be away from the corruption in the court, and she had grown at her wits end. She was truly ill, she was lying on that score, but if she weren't she would have complotted lying to her son anyway, just to get away for a short while. She couldn't stand the power play, every courtier grubbing for the same prize; the love of one man and his wife. Once, she was forced to play along, she was the Queen of England, but when she was downgraded to Dowager after the death of her husband, she didn't realize how much acting was really involved and how fake people really were to her face. Every courtier was an actor, and any advancement was just an addition to the script of their own lives.

Perhaps the worst part was how well Arthur and Katherine played along with it. She never thought that her son was capable of the amount of acting he did each day, but truly what surprised her the most was how good Katherine was at all of the foolery. She was like the center of the court, and assumed her self-given role naturally. Elizabeth couldn't believe how much power she held, and more shocking, was that Arthur allowed her to play such a role in his government.

Even if Elizabeth thought it was charming that her eldest son was so kind to his wife, the whole thing worried her. She knew Katherine had not been fond of Harry since he had received the money from the Beaufort inheritance, money that was rightfully his, and after Arthur conceded and allowed Harry to stay out of the church, Katherine's hatred and suspicion of Harry was never hidden. It was hard for her to watch her family in such a shambles, especially when Harry was being hurt by it, since she had such a soft spot for her little boy.

It was painful to watch a rivalry slowly form between both of her sons, even if Arthur was kind to his brother and vise versa, there was that underlying tension nobody in the room couldn't sense, most of it caused by Katherine. It reminded her too much of her own childhood, when her father and her uncle Richard fought over a crown, and when her innocent young brothers were sacrificed because of royal sibling rivalry. She would hate to see either of her sons' lives in jeopardy, as well as any of her grandchildren's.

As soon as her husband died things started to fall apart, and the Tudors slowly became in danger of separating into two different factions. For all of his faults, her Henry was reasonable man, and knew that giving Harry too much money or titles would cause him to rival his brother; hence the plot for Harry to join the church was created by Henry and Margaret Beaufort. While she was glad that Harry would stay out of the church, as she believed it was a waste for her lively son to enter such a dour occupation, she knew it was a mistake for Harry to in any way attempt to create a rival faction, something that she knew Katherine feared above all, because she believed it would threaten her daughter's succession.

If only that damned Margaret Beaufort wouldn't have made Harry her heir! Elizabeth knew that her mother-in-law was as shrewd and evil as any person could possibly be, well deserving of her nickname Dragon Lady, but she didn't think that Margaret would ever dare to interfere with the careful work that Henry did to ensure his kingdom wouldn't break apart into a civil war. Given how fond Margaret was of her son, and her own hard work to see her eldest grandson succeed the throne and for her youngest grandson to be downplayed, it was such a surprise to see that she would be willing to give Harry money and give him rights to titles, which would encourage Harry even more on his quest to be King someday.

Elizabeth knew her darling son was a good boy and was turning into a good man, so she knew that her granddaughter's life wasn't in jeopardy, and that Harry would never dare kill her or threaten her livelihood in anyway. However, after Mary's recent illness, the girl's constitution had been weakened immensely in the aftermath, and that she never was the healthiest child since she inherited her father's weak disposition.

If Mary's natural wasting away was to be the death of her prematurely, something Elizabeth would never hope for, she knew that Harry was the next in line, and that he would have to marry eventually. She couldn't imagine that Katherine would be too pleased about that, or let Harry and his wife live in peace with whatever children they may have. That worried Elizabeth, more than she'd ever admit.

So when Arthur sent word that Harry had gotten his mistress, Mistress Elizabeth Blount, pregnant, Elizabeth quickly began her journey back to Whitehall. She feared that even if her future grandchild was a bastard; his or her life was in serious danger by the Queen's supporters or even the Queen herself. While Elizabeth was always fond of her daughter-in-law, she didn't know what the woman was capable of, even if Katherine was raised in the most Catholic environment in Europe her parents still had no trouble killing those who opposed them. She couldn't allow that to happen, not to any member of her family, legitimate or not, and especially not one born to Harry, who she never imagined would have children of his own.

As soon as she arrived at Whitehall, she brushed off everyone who offered their greetings outside the palace, unusual for her but she was beyond caring. She hurried through one of the servant's entrances, despite the protest from her ladies. She had to get to Harry as quickly as possibly, and she didn't want to be bothered by all those waiting in the main entrance, where her great dignity should have led her.

She didn't know Mistress Blount, she wouldn't have been able to pick the girl out of a crowd, but she knew that she had to do something, ANYTHING, to keep her unborn grandchild safe, even if that meant housing her son's whore somewhere remote. She had a few houses, some that Henry left her, far away from London, where none of the Queen's supporters would ever even think of looking. She knew that Harry had plenty of property of his own, but all of it was too close to London, something that Elizabeth didn't want to risk.

"Mother!" Henry exclaimed as soon as Elizabeth barged in, unannounced and unaccompanied. He hurried to the door and hugged her, welcoming her in and telling his servants to get her some refreshments before pulling out a chair to seat her. "I trust you had a good rest at Richmond, I didn't expect you back so soon!"

"Yes Harry, I did, but I didn't just come to talk, although you have grown much handsomer since I have last seen you," Elizabeth complimented, not being able to resist complimenting her favorite child. Every time she went away, either Arthur or Harry, despite their advanced ages, looked so much more handsome than before Elizabeth left.

"What is it mother? I haven't displeased you, have I?" Henry asked, fearing the worst. Even now that he had grown older he couldn't help but feel the need to please and protect his mother, as he always had done before, since he was a young child.

"Never, Harry, you would never displease me. However, I believe you have displeased the Queen with the news of your upcoming child," Elizabeth explained, and despite her grave tone of voice, she managed a smile. She loved how Harry had finally been able to start a family of his own, something she always dreamed about for him, even if he was starting it on the wrong foot.

"I don't care what she, I mean, her majesty thinks about Bessie and I having a baby. I plan on recognizing him and housing him and giving him the best, mother, and if you have come here to talk me out of it, I am sorry but..." he was cut off.

"I am so happy to hear that you are going to recognize your child! Nothing could give me more joy in the world to see you taking responsibility for this baby and having a plan to provide for it. I'd love to help you raise him, or her, but I am more worried about the safety of the child and of young Mistress Blount," Elizabeth continued.

"You think Katherine might hurt her?" Henry asked his mother, knowing that she would be honest with him. He was touched at her desire to help him in anyway, and glad that in this matter he was siding with him over Katherine, who would surely wish to see the child unrecognized or else rid of someway. Henry didn't honestly know a kinder soul than his mother.

"I don't know if Katherine will, but I fear that her most ardent supporters may have an agenda. While the child is illegitimate, unfit to inherit a fathering of your money and your titles, they will still carry your bloodline. The Princess of Wales is not the ruddiest child, no matter how much it pains me to say it, it is the truth Harry, and those who favor your interests will use the child as proof that you are fertile enough to be King, unlike Arthur and Katherine who have been most unlucky. There may be some who will seek to stop the birth or aging of the child, before it can be used against the King and Queen," Elizabeth voiced her concerns in a low whisper so only her son could hear. She wasn't sure if the walls were listening in, or if one of Harry's servants had been paid off. After all the years of being with her husband, she knew that spies lurked about the palace and were paid by all sorts of employers.

"Oh, I suppose I did not think of that. What should I do to protect them then?" Henry asked, grateful that his mother had thought it all through. He was just so happy when he heard that Bessie was pregnant that he didn't think about the negative consequences. He had also assumed since his child was doomed to be labeled a bastard that nobody would take interest in it.

"I suggest allowing her to go to Eltham, that old hunting lodge you used to live at. Arthur gave it to me last Christmas, after he was sure none of his children would be residing there. I figure it is far enough away for Mistress Blount to safely deliver the child. Once he or she is born, Katherine will probably marry Mistress Blount off, and you must bring up the child at Eltham. Where is Mistress Blount now, and is she being attended?" Elizabeth asked, hoping that Harry had seen to it that his mistress was far enough away from court so there wouldn't be whispers once she grew larger, and that the child could be born away from court into a healthier and safer environment.

"Arthur graciously allowed her to stay at Greenwich, and gave her some midwives and maids, enough, he promised me, to assist her during the birth and her confinement. The child is to carry the surname FitzYork," Henry explained. He was floored when Arthur made him such an offer, glad to see that his brother clearly wasn't following Katherine's advice or her tone of displeasure. However, now he was scared, as he wasn't sure if Greenwich was well guarded and it certainly wasn't far away from court, not as far as Eltham.

Elizabeth smiled at this, glad to see that Arthur was not punishing Harry or his mistress for something that they couldn't control. Even if Harry decided to take a mistress, as Elizabeth thought was natural, she was sure that he never wished for her to be with child, knowing how badly that could upset the balance of things. "I will talk to Arthur as soon as I am done speaking with you to make sure that the palace is well-guarded. Whatever the Queen's intention or her supporters, Arthur wouldn't touch a hair on his unborn niece or nephew's neck, I know him well enough. However, don't bring the child to court after she has delivered of it and it is christened, take it to Eltham, I give the lodge to you freely," Elizabeth graciously offered.

"Thank you mother, I'd be lost without you. Would you be insulted if I asked you to stand godmother to a bastard?" Henry asked, smiling sheepishly at his mother.

"No, I wouldn't, I'd be honored but I respectfully decline. Your sister Mary is due for some excitement, it would make her year to stand godmother to any child, regardless of its status," Elizabeth suggested. Although she would love to stand godmother, she knew that Katherine would take it as a sign of her siding with Harry over Arthur, something that she didn't want to risk. Besides, her daughter was so sentimental about things such as christenings and births, and she would love to see her preside over the ceremony and be sponsor to a child.

After Henry vigorously thanked his mother and the two dined together privately, Elizabeth headed straight back to her rooms, waiting for word from Arthur, who always sent a message requesting to see her after she arrived. Even though she was comfortable visiting with Harry in her riding habit, she couldn't allow herself to be presented in front of her King like that, even if her King was also her son. She had her maids change her into a silk blue gown and matching headdress, and afterwards they dressed her throat and fingers in glowing jewels. It had been a long time she had gone out in public, and she didn't want the courtiers to think she had let herself go or that she lacked funds to dress herself properly.

Even if she was no longer the female lead, she had to continue to play her part in the theater of court.

Like Elizabeth expected, Arthur shortly sent a message, inviting her to dine with him and Katherine. Although she had already eaten with Harry, the meal was a light one, as Harry didn't want to weigh himself down before he went hunting, so Elizabeth accepted her son's invitation and hurried down to Katherine's rooms, where the three would dine together.

"Your majesty, the Dowager Queen is here," one of Arthur's grooms announced as soon as Elizabeth arrived, and Arthur singled that she should be admitted. She smiled at her son and her daughter-in-law and bobbed a quick curtsy in their direction.

"How was your visit to Richmond?" Katherine asked genially, glad to see that the woman was in good spirits, as she was a sliver lining in the court of darkness. Katherine had been having a hard time lately dealing with the stress of Bessie Blount's pregnancy and Arthur's indifference towards the whole thing.

If only Arthur would agree to place Henry in the church again! Katherine was so confident that they would have their male heir at last, as her courses had not come last week, as she expected, and once she delivered of a son than Henry would no longer need to be available. While a physician was yet to confirm her intense suspicion, she felt that God would give Arthur and herself another chance at conceiving. Why wouldn't He, after all? Katherine and Arthur had ushered in a new peace in England, an era of gold, and she was so sure that the frivolous nature of her son-in-law would run their hard work straight into the Thames. A son by her and Arthur would continue the good works they had done, or if worst came to worst, Mary would suffice. After all, she had certainly done a wonderful job of aiding her husband, and if they were able to arrange a marriage for Mary with one of her male relatives in Spain then she was sure that England would continue to prosper.

She couldn't allow Henry to stay single, because Katherine was so positive that he would seek to marry sooner than later, creating small and legitimate rivals to her daughter's throne and rights. If Henry picked a fertile bride than his virility would be proved, and would once again contrast Arthur's and the people would clammier for a strong, virile King on the throne opposed to her sickly and young daughter after her husband passed.

She couldn't allow Henry to prove himself, and so she had to prevent Henry from getting married. Even if he would never marry Bessie, Katherine was sure on that score, she knew that Henry would miss the female company once he rid himself of her, as she was disgraced now and Katherine would have to pay a great deal of money to see her married off according to her genial status, than he would seek to make his affections permanent, and any willy-nilly at court would shove their daughters in front of his noses once his accession looked more secure.

Those courtiers could be dangerous when ambitions, putting her daughter and husband's lives in danger if they had their way, to secure Henry's position as future-King. Even if her fears were partially political, most of them were for her family's benefit and she had to see to it that Henry's threat was pacified.

The church was a perfect solution, one that Katherine wanted so badly to execute. Even if she agreed that Henry was dangerous because of his money, and so they should try not to anger him, using Bessie Blount as a tool to coax him would be the perfect way to secure his safe position. She knew that her brother-in-law had a conscience, which was admirable and useful to her. If she threatened to marry Bessie off to some low-born scoundrel at court, she knew that Henry would jump to her defense, allowing her to use Bessie's future as a tool to get him into the church.

Arthur said no, and she couldn't believe it! Even so, he was King, and Henry was his brother, so she had no choice, she couldn't arrange it. Arthur loved Katherine very much, but she knew that he wouldn't like to see his orders flaunted so brazenly, especially those regarding his bloodline. He had been very generous to her so far, allowing Mary to have the title Princess of Wales and having Katherine take on many unofficial roles, so Katherine would feel terrible guilt if she didn't listen to him when he only asked for one thing.

Her thoughts were stopped by Elizabeth's' abrupt question regarding Henry, as Katherine hadn't been really listening to their conversation before; she was too absorbed in her own thoughts. "I trust that Greenwich is well guarded, your majesty? And that Mistress Blount and her unborn child are in no danger?" Elizabeth asked, addressing both Katherine and Arthur, used to them now as co-rulers.

"I assure you, mother, that Mistress Blount and her household, along with the child naturally, are being vigilantly watched. I would never risk harm to befall my future niece or nephew, if Henry really does plan on recognizing it," Arthur voiced. He was pleased that Henry was planning on recognizing the child; no matter how much of a pain it would turn out to be, the child was innocent and deserved to have a loving father. Even if he hadn't planned on recognizing it, Arthur would ensure that Mistress Blount and her child were well-provided for, secretly of course, as to not flaunt his brother's wish.

"Which we should hope he does not," Katherine interjected. Life would be a lot easier if Bessie would concede and allow the child to be given away, so the royal family could wash itself of this sordid affair. As a mother, she would feel sympathy for Bessie, but as a Queen she hoped that Bessie would have some measure of sensibility regarding this issue, and was disappointed to find out that she didn't and that she whimsically convinced Henry, no doubt, to accept the bastard as his own. Katherine knew that Bessie's father was a sensible man and that he would give the child away to some peasant family, to clear his family of having an unrecognized bastard under their roof and allowing Bessie to marry as if it had never happened. Katherine clearly thought that was the best option.

"Why do you say that, your majesty?" Elizabeth asked kindly, trying very hard to keep the measure of displeasure out of her tone, even if that's what she felt. She couldn't' believe the nerve of Katherine, wanting the poor woman to deny her child a father and to deny Harry the right to raise his own child! If she didn't know any better, Katherine was beginning to lose sight of any sort of emotion and the once beloved Infanta of Spain and Princess of Wales was during into a cold-hearted and self-centered Queen of England.

"If the bastard goes unrecognized, Lord Blount will, in all likelihood, give the child away to some peasant family so it could be brought up as a commoner. It would be like Henry and Bessie never had a child, and my daughter's succession rights and any other future child we may have would never be questioned, and Henry won't get any ideas about marrying," Katherine explained solemnly, not allowing any of her conflicting emotions to show on her face. She was the Queen of England, damn it, and she wasn't about to allow petty emotions interfere with what was important to her country and to her family.

"That is an awful thing to wish upon any child Katherine, especially one born to noble blood. Henry will recognize the child, in any case mother, so no need to worry," Arthur passionlessly fired back, scared by his wife's words. Had she really become so blinded by ambition for Mary that she was willing to separate a mother and a child, no matter the emotional consequences?

"Well, see to it that he does, your majesties. If you will excuse me," Elizabeth prompted, not able to stomach staying in this room any longer. She understood Katherine's need to defend her daughter's rights, but she knew that she was taking it too far.

"Of course mother. Please, rest up and don't worry about Henry's child, I have it taken care of and he, or she, will bear the surname FitzYork," Arthur replied, standing up to see his mother out the door.

"Husband…" Katherine began when he stalked back into the room, but she was cut off.

"Goodnight, madam, I am not feeling well," Arthur addressed Katherine in a neutral tone of voice, not infusing it with love or devotion like he usually did. He still loved her, no little conversation could change the way he felt, but that didn't mean he wasn't disgusted by her words. He briskly kissed her hand, not even allowing his lips to rest on it for a mere millisecond before turning away, not giving her a chance to address him.

"Maria!" Katherine called as soon as Arthur had left.

"Your majesty?"

"My mother once told me, when I was a girl, that ruling was the most important task God gives to somebody, and that you shouldn't let your emotions get in the way of His will for your country. I just wonder why Arthur hasn't learned this yet." Katherine paused to reflect out her window, no longer looking at Maria. "I shall have to teach him."

* * *

Anne, as soon as the Queen had gotten in a fight with King, had rushed back to her family apartments, only to find her father and uncle talking, laughing it up with another man, one who Anne had never seen before. Anne quickly rushed out after that, not wanting her father to be anger at her or think that she was eavesdropping.

It had been a full day since it had happened and the next day the Queen was so friendly and unaffected as usual, so Anne hadn't even thought twice about it, knowing it was a casual fight between a husband and wife that happened every so often. She didn't tell anybody but she didn't feel like she had to, after all, the Duke of York wasn't going into the church anymore, everybody knew that, and that Bessie and Henry's child would be recognized if Henry wanted to.

However, today it was strange because the Queen brought it up again when she was dining with the King and the Dowager Queen. Anne was one of the few ladies left to attend on her mistress today when she dined, a rare honor as she got to hear all of the private business of the royal family, and she had heard the Queen's suggestion two days in a row now. She didn't know why, or what would happen, but the King seemed pretty adamant about keeping the Duke of York out of the church, something Anne was glad for.

When George came into the room, Anne's thoughts melted away, as she forgot totally about what had passed between King and Queen over the past few days and instead accepted the kiss from her brother and bidding him to sit next to her.

"How have the past few days been going, my favorite sister?" George asked once the two of them had settled down in the family's apartments- as was their daily routine. Usually, unlike the previous day, Thomas Boleyn was out of his apartment and once George was dismissed from his newly appointed post as Groom of the King's Privy Chamber, the two would converse alone, one of their few respites from the public life of court.

Anne smiled at his compliment; she enjoyed being favored over Mary in her father and brother's eyes. "Just fine, although it has been strange without Bessie in our chamber, and Mary's been dreadfully bored," Anne explained her eyes aflame with mirth. She thought it was humorous how badly Mary had been complaining, even if it was a bit annoying it was well-deserved. Anne did love her sister, she truly did, but she found her follies to be obnoxious and without her co-conspirator Bessie around, they were stopped.

"Where did Bessie go, nobody's said a word," George asked, hoping that his sister would know. The King had never spoken about it in his private rooms with anybody, at least not when George was around.

"The King sent her to Greenwich, and she's under heavy guard to protect her life and the child's. The Queen isn't pleased that his grace plans on recognizing it," Anne explained casually, as if this wasn't as big of a deal as it truly was. Anne didn't quite understand politics of the court, not yet at least, but she had heard the Queen explain about how the child would threaten her own daughter's succession, even though Anne didn't see how. Princess Mary was the King's heiress and the Duke's unborn baby was a bastard, and not even able to inherit his father's wealth.

"What did she say about it?" George asked, curious. He was still very close with Henry and he wanted to know what the Queen wanted done about his upcoming child and how she planned on getting rid of Bessie.

"Her majesty said that his grace should enter the church, and she said something about using Bessie as a tool to get him to do just that, so they wouldn't anger him into violence, or something that. Her majesty also suggested that The Duke of York not recognize the child, so Lord Blount would give it away after Bessie has it. The King wasn't pleased, and neither was the Dowager Queen," Anne explained, not noticing when her brother's eyes widened.

"Oh my God, Henry feared this!" George exclaimed. He remembered hunting with Henry one day, along with Charles Brandon and William Compton, and Henry describing the Queen's desire for him to enter the church and how badly that scared him. George was almost positive that Henry didn't know the Queen was willing to resort to blackmail in order to see him enter the church. Even if the King didn't agree right now, everybody at court knew that Queen Katherine's influence was so great that he could change his mind in a matter of hours. He had to warn him. "Anne, I'm sorry, I have to go. I will see you later tonight though." With that, George kissed his bewildered sister on the check and hurried out of the room.

When he reached Henry's apartment, instead of knocking as curtsey dictated, he barged in, glad to see that Henry was alone with only Brandon. "Your grace, forgive me for the intrusion, it's just I have urgent news."

"Yes?" Henry asked, not having the slightest clue to what he was talking about, not even looking up from his game of chess with Brandon to acknowledge George Boleyn.

"The Queen plans to use Mistress Blount to coax your grace into submitting to her will, her will of course to have you enter the church. His majesty has refused, but as you know…" he was cut off.

"It's only a matter of time before Katherine sinks her teeth into his plans. Come with me Charles, I must go make sure this is stopped. Thank you, George, you have done well for me tonight," Henry said before stalking about of the room, not before thrusting coins into George's hands.

George smiled, and for once in his life, felt more loyal to the Duke of York than to the King and Queen.

* * *

When he came into the Queen's rooms, she was alone besides Maria, as Henry knew, her chief lady in waiting. "Your majesty, the Duke of York and Charles Brandon are here to see you," Maria announced, curtsying to her mistress and doing it again to Henry, only shallower.

"I have a headache, your grace, Mr. Brandon; I am in no mood for company," Katherine brushed off her brother-in-law and Charles Brandon with a casual sweep of the hand. She was so disgusted in Henry right now that she couldn't even look at him, keeping her head pointedly down at her needlework, her mouth slowly twisting into a scowl.

"Too bad, your majesty, the matter is most urgent," Henry forcefully replied, the sharpness of his voice causing Katherine to look up and then eventually stand up.

"You forget to whom you speak, your grace, I am the Queen of England and your brother's wife, not another one of your whores!" Katherine exclaimed, stalking closer to his face. She had dreamed of what she would say to the boy who threatened her daughter's rights, and while they were just thoughts, she feared that her temper would get the best of her and she would make those thoughts reality.

Henry was unmoved by her anger, and only got closer. "Katherine, I will not enter the church, not by your will or Arthur's. You cannot use my child against me, or my mistress. I am not a boy, Katherine; I am a man and one of the wealthiest land holders in England. You are a damned fool to dare and anger me," Henry voice would make even the strongest of women back down, but Katherine had transformed into somewhat of a formidable man trapped in a feminine body that very moment.

"You are the fool, Henry! You believe that you can play all these games with Arthur and I, well you can't! This isn't a game Henry, this is the country's future at stake, and this is no place for foolery. You think you can impregnate whom you please and not worry about what that will do to your niece, the RIGHTFUL heiress, before you, to this throne and how that will cause rifts in this delicate balance of things," Katherine explained, using her most condensing tone. She would not be held inferior against Henry.

"My son, or daughter, will be a bastard Katherine! I will not marry Bessie, but I will not marry God either. I stay single, and that's the end of it! You will not control my life anymore, Margaret Beaufort did and I won't let it happen again!" Henry asserted, his eyes directly staring into hers.

"If you love this country, if you love this family, you will do as I command!" Katherine fired back, her voice so loud that it threatened to reverberate throughout the whole court, letting them hear their argument.

"I will not do as you command, only what my brother, the King of England, commands of me. You are just his wife Katherine, and you can be replaced," Henry darkly suggested. He would never listen to his brother's wife on matters concerning his person, only Arthur had control over that and he did not want Henry to enter the church or for him to refuse his own child.

"Leave me, you insolent little child," Katherine commanded, allowing a small smile of triumph to graze her face. Even if he wouldn't listen to her commands regarding the church, he still had to leave when he was dismissed or else risk the anger of Arthur for disprespecting a royal.

Henry, after placing his lips to her ring, stalked out of her apartments, resolving to protect himself from the craft of evil and powerful women forever.

_Done! Alright, so not the best chapter either, but I hope it entertained you guys! It was important for the future, and there's some foreshadowing for those of you who are clever and have enough free time to find it haha. Next chapter, I PROMISE, will have Brandon/Mary action, since I am making the Imperial envoys appear for the first time. As for the rest, I'm not sure yet. Tell me what you thought about this chapter, since I love reviews so much :) _

_Have a great weekend everybody! See you next time :D_


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted since last time, I'm truly humbled thank you.

However, to address a question a few reviewers addressed last chapter about Katherine of Aragon going a little out of character at the end. I know that Katherine wouldn't have done that in a historical sense, especially when she was married to a man like Henry, but in this AU world she is married to Arthur and given a lot of influence, which makes her one of the most powerful figures at court and makes her forgo possible consequences a bit more. She also fears a lot for her little daughter, who isn't the most attractive heir compared to Henry. She is** not** meant to be another Margaret Beaufort, although Henry sees her that way. I do understand why you guys said that though, for those of you who mentioned it, and I really appreciate hearing your feedback! I just thought I needed to explain. Anyhow...

_Disclaimer_: All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events and are taken only for the purposes of the story. It's very AU. All recognizable characters are a property of Showtime and history. I don't write history, I just mess around with it ;]

Without further ado, the next installment of King Arthur II! Enjoy! (And note the year jump).

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_June 24, 1523_

"Katherine! I finally have word from the Emperor! They are coming to propose the match between Mary and him!" Arthur shouted as he walked into Katherine's apartments, unannounced, and swooped her into a giant hug and smacked a loud kiss on her lips.

Since she had first mentioned it, Arthur had vigilantly pursued an alliance with the Emperor Charles. At first, it was hard to plan, given that Charles was newly come to his great title as Holy Roman Emperor and preferred to settle things before jumping into a marriage. While it was very odd for sovereigns to do it, Arthur was understanding and very patient with the ambassador and with Charles himself, and only on occasion mentioned the unspoken promise for Mary to become Empress someday.

It took a while, but Charles' advisors had finally begun to pressure him for an heir, and the time came for Charles to take a wife. Arthur's sister Mary was the first choice, and envoys were on their way to England.

"Oh, that is so wonderful! When are they to come? I would like to plan a banquet and masque in their honor," Katherine asked, his smile as broad as Arthur had seen it in a long time. He was so glad that his wife was happy; she would succumb to random bouts of darkness ever since Henry FitzYork was born, Arthur's little nephew. It was hard for her to accept the boy's birth, but she was a little bit pacified by the fact nobody made a fuss over him, and it helped that their daughter was often paraded around the country.

"In about a month or so, so we have time," Arthur replied, feeling very smug about the whole thing.

"Has Mary been told?" Katherine asked, her face darkening slightly when Arthur shook his head negatively.

He only had one problem with this alliance, and that was Mary herself. He knew his sister well enough to know that she wouldn't be happy about the whole thing, and he didn't miss the sly glances she shot at Henry's friends. He wasn't sure what she was capable of, while Margaret had went into her marriage quickly and without much compliant, even growing to love her aged husband before he was killed, Arthur wasn't sure how Mary would react. He honestly didn't know his youngest sister well at all; she was much younger than him, nearly 13 years stood between them, and so by the time Mary was moved into Eltham Arthur had married Katherine and moved to Ludlow.

It was times like this that he was eternally grateful to his mother. Elizabeth of York was like the mediator of the whole family, ever since Margaret Beaufort slapped her Arthur noticed his mother had become more serene, almost disconnected, yet fiercely devoted to her children's wellbeing. This had earned her the great respect of the whole family; even Katherine at her most formidable didn't dare upset Elizabeth, and so Arthur knew that Mary would listen to their mother's sensible advice if she didn't listen to his. He only needed to say the world and his mother would coax his sister into remembering her duties as a Princess and how grand of a match this really was.

"I don't plan on telling her until she would make an absolute fool out of herself by backing out. My sister has a great deal of pride, so she'll naturally want to impress the envoys. Besides, if all else fails, my mother will be willing to calm her down, and you know the effect she has on people," Arthur explained, smiling when Katherine nodded in agreement.

Katherine, after her fight with Henry about two years ago, decided that it was best to apologize to Elizabeth and Arthur for her behavior at dinner earlier that evening. While she believed her attitude and words towards Henry to be justified, and she hadn't apologized to him, she knew upsetting her mother-in-law and her husband would do her no good. She certainly didn't want either of them to have an ill opinion of her.

Elizabeth, as usual, accepted the apology at face value and continued to treat her daughter-in-law as a close friend, and the two enjoyed a close relationship afterwards, and Katherine was careful not to mention Henry negatively in her presence. After all, Henry FitzYork's birth ended up bearing no long-term effects on the status of her daughter, or the status of Henry himself. The only backlash were the few people who considered Henry's bastard son as proof that Henry would make a more potent King than Arthur, but Katherine and Arthur had both accepted that their would be wrong-headed people no matter what they did, or even if they had a son.

When Katherine went to apologize to Arthur, on the other hand, he was less than forgiving at first and it took a great deal of effort on her part to get him to accept her words.

"_Your majesty, you must forgive me for the unkind words I spoke towards you this evening. I took it upon myself to question your clear judgments and I am deeply regretful," Katherine, in a deep curtsy, eloquently apologized. She knew that even if Henry was a threat to her daughter's status, she had no right to question Arthur's decision or to ill-wish any member of the royal family. She wouldn't apologize to Henry but she had to do it to her husband. _

"_The Duke of York is my problem, not yours. I have been very kind to you, giving you power no other Queen would ever dare to dream of. I respect your opinion, but I don't appreciate you undermining my decisions, especially concerning my own brother," Arthur shot back, not willing just yet to forgive her. _

"_Please, don't be angry at me. I spoke in haste, I was wrong," Katherine conceded. Even if she feared for her daughter and the succession, she knew that Arthur was shrewd and able, so she couldn't allow her personal judgment interfere with his divine will. She was raised to be loyal to her husband, and she felt like she had crossed the line at dinner. _

"_You must promise me something..." _

"_Oh, anything! Just say the word," Katherine agreed, glad that he was beginning to see how truly sorry she was. _

"_Treat me as your husband, as your superior. Yes, I give you power freely, but just remember that I give it to you, you have no real right to it. You must swear to me right now that all decisions I make are final. If I want your opinions, which trust me, I will want it most of the time, I will ask for it. Treat me like your king, not like some weak little whelp and I will be generous to you in return," Arthur demanded, for once, truly feeling like he held some power over his outspoken wife. He respected her opinions, but sometimes it was very frustrating for him, as King, to be undermined by his own wife! In the case of his own family, he was less flexible, knowing Katherine's dislike towards Henry. _

_After a few moments of letting it soak in, Katherine rose from her curtsy and stalked closer to him, meeting him eye-to-eye. "I swear to you, by my own life and that of our daughter, that I will be a loyal and true wife to you, as I have sometimes neglected to be in the past. I gladly offer you my submission." _

_Katherine decided to symbolize her words, lowering herself slowly onto the ground and kissing his ring, not daring to look up at him. He was her King, and she owed him everything. _

"I am so sorry love, I have to go, I must tell my chamberlain of these developments so he can make ready. There is so much to do before they come, and the Emperor may be following them if all goes as planned. I leave the masque and any other further entertainments into your capable hands," Arthur explained, kissing her before heading towards the door.

"Arthur, wait! What about Mary's birthday? Should we summon her to court when the envoys come?" Katherine asked. If they were going to plan all of these things for the Imperial ambassadors, they would also have to plan celebrations for Mary's birthday in juxtaposition. It would also consume a lot of her planning time, and she had to make sure everything was in order before she went all out.

"Yes, why not? Seven is a big age, and I'm sure she'll enjoy watching whatever you have planned, even if it's not going to specifically be for her, but I want her here for her birthday. Alert her chamberlain for me, would you sweetheart?" Arthur replied, smiling at Katherine one last time before heading out.

"Maria! Come, we have much planning to do. I am not sure which of my ladies should be in the performance," Katherine commanded her ever loyal lady. Maria was not ignorant about the happenings of Katherine's younger ladies, unlike Katherine, who despite spending time in apartments more often than not in these days, knew little about most of her servants.

"Mademoiselle Boleyn should be a part; she is a most skilled dancer," Maria suggested. The youngest Boleyn sibling, unlike her sister Mary, was one of Maria's favorite. Anne Boleyn was a very interesting girl, and had a sensible attitude, unlike her flirtatious and at times obnoxious sister. Maria could also tell the Queen was fond of the now sixteen year old Anne, as she often excused the girl to do as she liked around the palace instead of staying cooped up in her apartments and when the Queen rode out, she often asked Anne Boleyn to accompany her.

"Oh yes, Anne Boleyn, I would like her to be next to Arthur's sister, the Princess Mary. It will naturally draw a lot of attention to her, and like her sister, her father would like me to find her a good husband," Katherine replied, enjoying the idea. Mary Carey, once Mary Boleyn, was a loyal servant to her even if she was naively foolish, and Katherine was all too happy to find her a respectable husband. Sir Thomas Boleyn was also a favorite of Arthur's, and since her agreement with her husband, she agreed to aid them him in finding husbands for his daughters.

"She has certainly grown very beautiful, and outspoken," Maria agreed. "I'm sure whoever her father, or your majesty, chooses for her will be very pleased to have such a wife. And she is so intelligent too!" Maria exclaimed, smiling at the thought of little Anne who had grown into an exotic beauty, never quite loosing her draw from the days at the French court. She thought it was very generous for Katherine to do this for Anne, and she didn't think there was a better candidate for such an honor.

Maria and Katherine spent the next few hours picking the parts for the ladies, and then sent instructions for the court musicians and playwrights to put together the production. Even if it was a month away, Katherine wanted to give her seamstress time to design something and make them, plus all the measurements that had to be taken. She also had many other things to plan, including jousts and banquets in the envoys honor, in hopes that they would be so impressed that they would urge her nephew, the Emperor, to come and enjoy English hospitality, and that they would agree to the match.

She had to make this go right, so much was at stake. If her sister-in-law became the Holy Roman Empress, that would reaffirm her ties to her native Spain, and also create a secure throne from her daughter to inherit someday. With her beloved aunt married to the most powerful man in Europe, not to mention having some Hapsburg cousins, she would be safe and secure.

It was certainly something Katherine aimed for.

* * *

**Eltham Palace**

"Welcome to Eltham, your grace."

Henry was greeted with his usual flourish, but he didn't acknowledge the greeting of his son's chamberlain or of any other member of his household. He headed straight up to his rooms.

It had been far too long since he had seen his little son, and he wasn't about to waste time inquiring about the state of the palace, knowing that the people he engaged in Hal's household were well-paid to do their jobs, and that if he found some fault in their performance he could deal with that later. All he carried about now was seeing his boy, whom he hadn't seen in about six months.

Hal was born in April of 1521, and he was the strongest son any man could ask for. Henry regretted that his lusty boy wouldn't be able to inherit his duchies someday, but that didn't stop him from wanting the best for Hal. He felt bad for not seeing Hal for quite some time, but he had been preoccupied at the palace, mostly with women and his friends.

"Your grace, I wasn't expecting a visit today, Lord FitzYork is napping right now, I can wake him if your grace wants," Hal's nurse, clearly flustered, asked him. Henry smiled when he heard his son's title, so generously given by Arthur. Even if Henry FitzYork was a bastard, he was respectable thanks to his uncle.

"Please do," Henry requested, smiling kindly at the woman. She was an older lady and was very devoted to her little charge, even if he was a bastard son of a mere Duke. Henry made sure to pay the household of Hal well, considering that his son wasn't somebody with high standing compared to other children.

"Your grace," the nurse bobbled another quick curtsy after leading a bewildered Hal into the room with his father, and left them alone for privacy.

"Father," Hal greeted, bowing in a clumsy manner. Henry noticed Hal was frozen with fear, and refused to move from his place in the doorway.

He put on his kindest smile for his son before speaking. "Hal! You've gotten so big now! Can you come here and tell me how old you are?" Henry asked kindly, smiling when his son moved closer. He hadn't seen Hal since he had turned two, and he was floored at how big the boy had gotten. He had received reports from his nurse that he was outgrowing his clothes and Henry had to send more money for new ones, but he couldn't believe that he had gotten this big!

Hal gave his father a toothy grin before wobbly walking over to him. "I'm two," he replied, laughing when Henry swooped him up into his arms.

"Two, huh? I think I missed your birthday, but I am going to make up for that," Henry promised, and proceeded to tickle his son. Even if Hal was nervous at first, Henry was always able to quickly warm up his son to his presence. He knew that Hal's attendants always told Hal to great Henry with a level of respect, but Henry thought they sometimes took it too far and made Hal so self-conscious as to not make a mistake in front of his father.

That was really the last thing Henry wanted, so he always made sure to be easygoing around his son, and once Hal got older, Henry didn't intend on drilling the boy with questions about things he learned from his tutors. He remembered his own childhood too well, when he was young and was expected to have a grasp of theology. His father was hardly warm towards him, and his grandmother constantly nailed him with tough questions about what he had learned that day. While he wanted Hal to be educated so he could one day make it in the world, he didn't want Hal to have a miserable childhood.

He also didn't want Hal's household to tell him about his bastard status when the time came, Henry wanted that job for himself. Even if it could be possible to avoid it all together while he was still young, as the Queen had it made it clear that as long as she was alive she wouldn't allow Hal to reside at court with his father so he would be confined in the country, Henry thought his son would have the right to know. He didn't regret the circumstances of Hal's birth, but he wished there was some way around causing his son possible pain.

"Do I get a gift? Mama brought me one on my birf-day," Hal explained, his bright eyes looking up at his father. It was at the moment Henry relieved that although Hal was fair like his mother, he shared many of Henry's facial features, including his eyes, something that made him even prouder of his son.

Henry also smiled at the thought of Bessie being so attentive towards Hal, even if Bessie had every reason to feel resentful towards him. After Hal was born, Katherine arranged for Bessie to marry Gilbert Tailboys, a baron. It was a marriage that pleased her father and that pleased Henry to some degree. While he was happy that Bessie was married off safely to a man of some standing and that Katherine didn't punish him by marrying Bessie to some low-life nothing, their affair ended shortly after Hal's birth because of this. Baron Tailboys, after accepting a great deal of money from Katherine, promised to keep Bessie in the country and to hardly ever bring her to court, and Bessie was promptly dismissed from Katherine's household. Henry made sure that Bessie was allowed to see their son as often as she liked, but he refused Bessie's request for Hal to live in her new home, even when Baron Tailboys agreed.

Hal was his son, and he was going to be raised by his standards. He wouldn't separate mother and child cruelly and always allowed Eltham to be open to Bessie, even for extended visits of how long her new husband would allow, Henry would never consent to having his son taken out of his control and adopted into the Tailboys' household. He loved his son, and he didn't want to loose him.

"Yes I did. I brought you this," Henry replied, producing a small book from behind him, which had concealed in order surprise his son. "It's called a horn book, and soon I am going to engage a governess for you that will teach you some basic things." Educating Hal this soon was something his mother argued with him about, but Henry pursued it anyway. Hal was a bright child, as he was sure no child born of him would be a simpleton, so he figured it would be best to get a head start on his lessons.

To Henry's great delight, Hal seemed very pleased by this gift. "Thank you father," he replied, hugging his father tightly from the spot in his lap.

"Hal, what did I tell you? Call me Papa," Henry insisted, and shook his finger at Hal with mock disappointment, which caused him to giggle. He didn't want things to be so formal around his son, even if he was engaging him with a grand education; he wanted his son to feel like he was a true father, one who loved him truly and when he was older he wanted Hal to feel like he could talk to him about anything. Henry never had that with his father, and although he did have a close relationship with his mother, it wasn't the same.

"Will you play a game with me papa?" Hal asked, revealing a heartwarming toothy grin.

"Of course," Henry replied, setting his son on the ground and then sitting down next to him, allowing Hal to eagerly explain his favorite game to his papa.

When it was truly time for Henry to leave, as he hadn't planned on spending the night, he was dismayed to find his son in tears. "Please don't leave papa!" Hal begged, grasping onto his leg.

"I'm sorry Hal, I have to go. I'll be back sooner next time, and we can play again," Henry soothed, crouching down to Hal's level and allowing his son one last hug before heading out the door, not daring to look back until he had mounted his horse outside of the small hunting lodge.

He couldn't have let Hal see him cry.

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_July 16, 1523_

"No mother, I wouldn't marry him!" Princess Mary affirmed with a rousing stomp, her eyes glaring harshly through her mother's skull. "Have you seen his chin?" she asked, her tone reflecting her anger.

Per Arthur's orders, Elizabeth had waited until a week before the envoys arrived before telling her youngest daughter that she was being considered as a bride for the Emperor, even if the negotiations had been taking place for nearly three years now. She was beginning to think that Arthur's well-thought out plan may backfire. They had expected for Mary to meet the offer with disdain, but Elizabeth couldn't help but think Mary would do something drastic to get out of this marriage.

"Really darling, he is the most powerful man in the world, and he is young, only 23. Margaret's husband was much older than him when she married, and she was only thirteen. You have been single for a long time," Elizabeth rationally pointed out, moving to comfort her daughter. She knew how feisty her youngest was, and that was something admirable usually in her daughter, but Elizabeth knew that now was not the time where this was a good quality. Arthur and Katherine would be very upset if Mary was less than her charming self towards the envoys, and later, towards her husband.

"I don't care how powerful he is, I refuse to marry somebody I don't know! Margaret was different, she was the oldest and that was when father was alive! I thought that Arthur would be different," Mary pouted, tears streaming down her usually flawless face. While she had never really met her sister Margaret, because she was too young to remember her, she used to be so glad that she wasn't going to suffer the same fate as her. She had passed through her fourteenth and fifteenth birthday without a mummer of any plans for marriage, and she expected that she was free from any marital alliances. She was sorely put-out at learning otherwise.

"Arthur has been very generous towards you in arranging this. What did you expect anyway, sweetheart? You are a Princess of England; you aren't going to be able to marry just anybody. It is your job to listen to your King and marry whom he chooses for you," Elizabeth explained. She knew that her daughter would probably like to marry one of Henry's handsome friends, or perhaps somebody more attractive than Charles V. However, Elizabeth couldn't think of a better match for her daughter in all of Christendom, and she was sure that if Mary went into it thinking positively she might be able to make a loving marriage out of something arranged.

"I wanted to marry somebody I loved mama. How could I love somebody I'll maybe meet once before having to marry him, and worse, sleep with him and have his children?" Mary asked, wondering how her brother could possibly accept her to lay down and accept this! She didn't understand why he couldn't just use his daughter, yes she was only seven, but she was sure that it wouldn't matter, since her niece was set to inherit one day. Mary was also sure Katherine would like nothing more than to see her daughter rule alongside her nephew, which would tie England even closer to Spain than Mary could ever do. She may have been just a young woman, but she understood more than they thought.

"Look at your brother and Katherine. They are so happy, and once upon a time, they were two awkward teenagers who were forced into what appeared would become another arranged loveless royal marriage. I also loved your father very much, and he was not the first man I would have liked to marry. We are just women sweetheart, the best thing you can do is just accept this and make the best out of it," Elizabeth advised calmly, trying not to get roused by her daughter's explosive behavior. Elizabeth knew she would have never gotten away with making such a fuss over her arranged marriage to Henry Tudor, who wasn't even King then and may have never been. She thought it was silly that her daughter would make such a fuss entering into a stable marriage with the most powerful man she knew of, even if she tried to understand where her daughter was coming from. Elizabeth once too did dream of marrying for love, but the difference between her and her daughter was that she learned that it was a dream, while Mary clearly refused to give it up.

"I can't just do that! Arthur and Katherine are very lucky; they were able to learn to love each other. They always knew that they were going to marry each other too, mama, look at it that way. And you always knew that you were going to marry royally, even if it wasn't always father that you were promised too. I thought I was going to be able to choose!" Mary lamented. She didn't even understand why Arthur needed this alliance; it does not like England ever went to war anymore, so he didn't need the protection of the Emperor. It was just all very unfair to her.

"Mary, I know this is hard, but you don't have a choice. The envoys are coming in a week, and on the first day Katherine has planned a wonderful masque. You will be standing at the very top in plain sight of everybody, and your brother Henry will be participating in it along with some of Arthur's grooms, Henry's friends, and Katherine's ladies. Don't embarrass your brother with anything," Elizabeth, kindly, but firmly, warned. She knew how badly her son and daughter-in-law wanted this alliance, and they wouldn't be inclined to be kind towards Mary if she did anything to screw it up.

Mary, knowing that her mother wasn't going to listen to her arguments, sweetly thanked her and watched her leave before she commanded one of her ladies to accompany her Henry's rooms. Of all people, he would understand.

* * *

"Henry!" Mary shouted as soon as she entered, brushing off the grooms awkward looks towards her. Usually, they were requested to announce an importance visitor, such as a Princess of England, but Mary busted into their master's room so fast that they had no time to even blink before she was before her brother.

"Mary, what can I do you for you?" Henry asked, smiling at his sister. Like usual, he was surrounded by his close friends; Charles Brandon, William Compton, Anthony Knivert and George Boleyn. Mary couldn't help but notice the sly glances Charles kept shooting at her, but she refrained from paying attention to the handsome young man and focused on her present situation.

"How long have you known the envoys were coming and you didn't tell me?!" Mary asked, slapping his chest for emphasis. Even if she came to her brother for advice unfiltered by loyalty towards the King and Queen, she was still angry at being left in ignorance for God knew how long. It was intolerable!

"Only a month sister, they told me not to tell you, and you know I can't afford to make the Queen angrier than what she already is towards me. If I knew this would upset you so much, I wouldn't have kept it from you," Henry admitted, allowing his sister to collapse into his outstretched arms. "What's the matter?"

"What do you mean, what's the matter? I don't want to marry him, that's what! It's so unthinkable; Arthur just assumed that I would be happy with it. Well I'm not!" Mary pouted, stopping her tears for a moment to shout at her brother, not caring that his friends were standing around awkwardly, all of them dressed in riding clothes, waiting to go out for a hunt.

"I'm so sorry Mary, but think about it, you will be an Empress! That's even better than a Queen," Henry put in, using his most convincing tone, even though he knew that if he was in her position that he would be just as angry and upset. He felt for her, Mary was always his favorite sister and he felt a special bond towards her, as they spent at lot of time together as young children when they lived at Eltham and he felt protective over her. He blamed Katherine for this latest development, knowing that she wanted so badly to tie England to Spain, and she would do it at the cost of his sister's happiness.

"I don't even care! He's got the biggest chin I've ever seen, and he is probably very stuffy," Mary complained, releasing herself from her brother's embrace. Did everybody in her family really think she was selfish enough to sacrifice her own happiness for a title? Did they think that she would really choose being married to the most powerful man over being married to a man that she loved? Did they really think she wanted to leave her home in England, away from her mother and brother, to go off to some strange land where nobody spoke her language? At these thoughts, she began to cry again, and continued even when a warm comforting hand was placed on her shoulder.

"There, there, your highness, don't cry. Maybe there's some way out of it," Charles Brandon comforted, his frame towering over the petite Princess'. He couldn't stand to see her cry; it made his stomach flip and made him feel personally guilty, even if he had nothing to do with it.

"What could I do Charles? Arthur is the King, remember," Mary replied. Although etiquette should have demanded that she release herself from Charles comforting touch, it felt right to her to have his hand resting on the sleeve of her gown, rubbing her arm.

"I don't know Princess, but I will know soon enough. Just hang in there for the envoys, be charming, make them give good reports to the Emperor, so they'll go back and insist he comes to England to see you himself. It will buy you time, and that's what you need, and it will also make the King and Queen think you are reconciled towards it, even if you aren't. Act the part of a willing pawn, Princess, and we will think of something in the mean time," Brandon proposed, and the involuntary and unnecessary guilt went away when he saw Mary's eyes light up and her head nod in agreement.

_Okay, so that was not as long as I wanted it to be, but I realized I didn't want to fit the meeting of the envoys and the setting up of the whole thing in one chapter, so the masque from episode 1.03 will be held off until Chapter Twenty. So sorry if this one was a little boring, but I hope you all enjoyed! Until next time, review! _

_And if I don't update by then, Happy Easter :) (for those of you who celebrate it)._


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! Thanks to everybody who has reviewed/favorited/alerted this story so far, the response from everybody has been truly overwhelming and I am so glad everybody likes the story! This chapter will be a bit of a turning point, but not a huge one. Some events will bear resemblance to half of episode 1.03 (I had to re-watch it to remember some if it!) but it will be with my twisted AU turns. With leads me to my....

_Disclaimer: _All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events and are taken only for the purposes of the story. It's very AU. All recognizable characters are a property of Showtime and history. I don't write history, I just mess around with it ;]

Without further ado, please enjoy (and review) Chapter Twenty :)

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_July 21, 1523_

"His eminence, Cardinal Wolsey and their excellencies the Spanish Ambassadors Chapuys and Mendoza," a page announced to the awaiting crowd, eager to see the masque their Queen had put on for the ambassadors of her home country.

Wolsey walked proudly alongside the two envoys and Sir Thomas More, happy to finally be of service to King Arthur in matters outside of the spiritual realm. While Queen Katherine had arranged most of the entertainments for the visiting envoys, the King had arranged for some of his most trusted advisors to greet them and to talk matters regarding the treaty binding his sister and the Emperor together so their two countries could ally. Wolsey was glad to be one of them, and he could tell by the look on his that More was pleased as well, even if he wasn't privy to their earlier discussions.

Wolsey had good reason to suspect that Queen Katherine was not very fond of him, as he was known to advocate a French alliance and be close with the Duke of York, her sworn enemy. Given that the King was so heavily and blindly influenced by his wife at times, Wolsey was glad that his master's opinion of him was not soured by whatever words his wife may have used against the Cardinal.

It suited him well to be close with the King, after all, the current chancellor was ill at the moment, and the disease was most likely fatal. Once the King's old chief advisor died, the spot was freed up, and Wolsey wanted nothing more to fill it. If Queen Katherine had truly tried to poison the King's mind, Wolsey was glad it did not work, as his assignment was a clear indication that the King viewed him to be a loyal and trustworthy servant to the crown, and his opinion was the only one Wolsey truly valued, even if other courtiers did not.

Some saw it more useful to court Queen Katherine over the King, but Wolsey thought better than that. If he truly wanted to be Lord Chancellor, which he did, then he knew that the final decision was the King's and the King's alone. Wolsey was aware that Queen Katherine wanted the Duke of York's bastard child to be unrecognized and hidden away with some low-born member of the commonwealth, but Wolsey knew that King Arthur persevered over his wife wishes and allowed the boy to carry the surname FitzYork and even gave him the title of Lord. If he was willing to defy the Queen in a matter that large, than Wolsey had reason to hope that he would override his wife if she voiced an objection to his appointment as chancellor.

Wolsey sat on a shorten chair next to Mendoza, while More sat on a chair similar to Wolsey's on the other side of Chapuys. Mendoza was in eager conversation with Wolsey, which brightened his spirits that much more. However, their conversation was cut short by the sound of drum rolls and the emergence of ladies dressed in white gowns and masks over their faces. The bystanders, along with the four men honored men, erupted into applause and whatever conversation Wolsey and Mendoza were having was cut short.

"Who are those ladies?" Mendoza eagerly asked More. Wolsey was secretly glad of this, as he was unaware of the plot line to the Queen's very expensive masque that she commissioned Master Cornish to write and produce. He knew that More was more likely to know then himself, and Wolsey certainly didn't wish to look like a fool in front of the envoys.

"They are the graces, excellence. They have names like kindness, honor, mercy and pity. They're prisoners in the castle. The figure to the left, under the broken hearts, is his majesty's sister, Princess Mary, The Emperor's prospective bride," More explained; his face lighting up as Mendoza took it in. He wanted so badly for this visit to go well, knowing how much Queen Katherine wanted to ally her country to the one of her birth. He could tell by the richness of the costumes and set that she had spent a great deal of time and money making sure that the English hospitality was nothing less than the best for the ambassadors to her nephew. More thought there wasn't a more shrewd and able Queen in all of Christendom, and he revered her piety and only wished her the best in all things.

"Who is keeping them prisoner?" Chapuys inquired in his faintly accented English.

"Danger, jealously, unkindness, scorn, disdain, strangeness and such," More answered. As if on cue to More's words, ladies dressed in black bearing the ribbons that read what force they were. Their costumes were similar to the graces in white, and they also wore masks.

Following the entrance of the ladies in black, men dressed in costume and masks, headed by their leader "Ardent Desire," who was really Master Cornish, entered. Among them were mostly Henry's friends, including Brandon, Compton, and Knivert and Henry himself. King Arthur declined to participate, as he knew he was a poor dancer and did not wish reflect his own talents on those of the rest of his court, who were mostly fine dancers.

"Is the King there? Which one is the King?" Mendoza asked, scanning the crowd of "knights" for a blonde head, as the portraits of the English King showed him to have. He found a few blonde men, but he wasn't sure what they looked like in the face, since their backs were turned to him.

"Well, the men represent youth, devotion, loyalty, pleasure, gentleness, and liberty. Unfortunately, his majesty is not among them but his brother, The Duke of York and Somerset, his hidden among them," More explained, praying the envoys did not view King Arthur to be any less of a man because his health and clumsy dancing prevented him from taking part in court entertainments such as these. Luckily, the envoys thought nothing of it and watched the masque with equal amusement.

Master Cornish began the masque by begging that Lady Scorn, the leader of the jailers, release the graces from their prison. The lines were humorous and playful, and everybody could tell that the actors and actresses were enjoying themselves immensely, and Chapuys and Mendoza were, to the great relief of Wolsey and More, amused by the witty lines.

As Master Cornish was delivering his lines, Henry couldn't help but stare up at his sister at the top of the set design, who was not pleased to have to perform in front of the envoys of the country she hoped not to marry into. Nevertheless, Henry was impressed that she kept her face schooled in a mask that did not give away her displeasure; in fact, Henry thought she looked mildly amused by the whole performance. Henry allowed his eyes to wander over the lady next to her, not recognizing her face, although something about it looked familiar. He figured she was either new at court or kept a low profile. However, he was entranced by her bright blue eyes and the fact that he could tell that she was beautiful even under her mask. He decided that instead of "capturing" Mary, as he had planned to do before, he would discover who this mysterious woman was.

"My lady, _desire_ overcomes all."

It was the men's cue to attack, and they did with full strength, bursting open the gates of the castle. Henry headed straight up to the top, climbing up the wooden frame with alarming speed towards her.

Anne Boleyn, as Queen Katherine and Maria had planned out, was next to the Princess Mary in order to draw attention to herself for any prospective husband. As such, Anne was not surprised to see the Duke of York climbing up the castle towards where she was, considering that she was standing next to his favorite sister, but she was shocked when he pulled on her wrist.

"Perseverance you are my prisoner," Henry passionately greeted Anne, not aware of her true self yet. Anne couldn't help but allow a playful and joyous smile cross her face, but she was too shocked and overwhelmed to do anything in return, so she pulled quickly out of his grasp and ran away. She couldn't believe that the Duke of York would pick her, of all people! It wasn't like he had ever noticed her before in THAT way, when she had tagged along with George when he went out with him he never even said hello, let alone showed any signs of finding her attractive. This whole situation was so confusing to her that she was only half aware when Charles Brandon "captured" her.

Henry was upset to not have fully gained the attention of the lady, but was pleased when he saw that Brandon had captured her, since they were next to each other in the dance formation and they had to switch partners. So he climbed up at the top of the tower, like originally intended, to meet his sister. "Sister," he greeted simply and took her hand in his.

"Brother," Mary greeted in return, giving him a weak smile. She was a little nervous when Henry went after the girl next to her, but she was glad to see that he finally returned to her so she wouldn't have to dance with anybody she didn't know. After all, she was going to have to marry a stranger; she certainly wanted her last days in England to be around familiar people, such as her beloved brother.

All of the dancers took their places on the main floor, standing across from their partners. Anne smiled widely at Charles Brandon, over her initial fright at the Duke of York's unexpected assault and was now able to retain her charming nature. After all, Charles Brandon was a handsome man and a good dancer, and she was glad she wasn't stuck with somebody dour.

"And now, all shall be unmasked."

As the mask slipped off the face of the woman that thwarted Henry, he was surprised to see that it was Anne Boleyn, the sister of George. She had a broad smile on her face and for a fleeting moment, glanced over at him with the same smirk. Henry felt something in his stomach involuntary flip, and he was shocked to see that this girl, the sister of his friend, had somehow turned into a great beauty without him noticing. He desired now to get to know her better, even if he wasn't sure yet where that would lead. After all, she was sixteen now, a mature age, considering some girls he knew had gotten married at twelve, and her beauty couldn't be denied.

For the present moment, Henry took his sister Mary as his partner and began to dance with her, making light conversation. He wanted to distract her from her marriage, even though this entertainment was being used to convince the envoys to take her as a bride. He was impressed to see how well she was performing for them, and was glad to know that Katherine or Arthur would have no cause to punish her for behavior unsuitable for Princess. Nobody could guess that his sister had any problem with the treaty, and Henry knew that if their mother was in the room she would be very proud of her youngest daughter.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Henry, he switched partners with Charles Brandon and found himself with Anne Boleyn.

"I feel like we should know each other better, Lady Anne," Henry suggested gently, not wanting to scare her. Something about her was different than Bessie Blount or any of the other whores he took to bed. She had more dignity, more charm than most of the other women at court. He vowed to posses her at that very moment.

"Yes," was her simple answer, not wanting to seem too pleased by the whole idea of being close with the Duke of York, even though she truly was. She knew what he was like, and that he probably wanting nothing more than a cheap fix, a whore to get him through the pain of being only the spare heir. Even if she had feelings for him, she wasn't sure what those feelings were, and she certainly wasn't going to sacrifice her virginity as a mistress, rather, she would only lay with her husband. She decided that at a young age in France after what happened to her sister, and she wouldn't take back her resolve now.

As Anne and Henry were conversing, Mary and Brandon were dancing together. "Have you thought of a plan yet, Mr. Brandon?" Mary asked respectfully, truly grateful to Brandon for taking up her case, but incredibly impatient to see results.

"I have, Princess. Before the Emperor comes, which is probably in a month, to finalize the treaty, you need to marry somebody else. As long as there is no pre contract, their will be no impendent to taking a husband before your betrothal is secured. Meet me later for more details" Brandon suggested in a whisper, not wanting to risk anybody overhearing. He had thought long and hard about her situation, wanting to help her in anyway because of how fond he was of her, and he had been able to remember his lessons with Wolsey when he was a boy to help him devise a plan.

Brandon had not asked Henry for help, knowing that he would probably not agree with his measures to try and help the Princess. Although Henry sympathized with his sister, he knew first hand that risking Katherine's wrath would be terrible if she did anything to meddle with the marriage. While Arthur had not executed many people during his reign, there was also that risk for that man, who ever he was, could be put to death per Arthur's orders, who would most likely be encouraged by Katherine to get that man out of the way so the marriage could go on as planned.

Brandon, if it came down to it, would risk his life to try and secure the Princess a marriage full of love, and he hoped secretly that Mary would condescend and marry him. He didn't miss their unspoken attraction, their sly glances to each other, and the way Mary always looked at him. He wanted just as badly to be freed from his marriage to Elizabeth Grey, the woman who had been promised to him since boyhood, a match arranged by the old King Henry. He only saw her twice, and he didn't wish, like Mary, to marry a virtual stranger.

Before Mary could ask who Brandon wanted her to marry, their partners switched again and the dance ended.

The whole court erupted into applause, and Henry glanced at Anne one more time for good measure, even if she wasn't looking back him. He felt the sides of his mouth upturn into a small smile. He probed her, taking it all in, undressing her with his eyes, and he couldn't help but smile a little wider and turn away, not wanting any more thoughts about Anne to corrupt his mind.

All the while, Sir Thomas Boleyn watched from the outskirts, soaking it all in, and wondering how this could play to his advantage.

* * *

It had been a long time since Katherine had a conversation in her native language, but she wasn't surprised that when she practiced with Maria, for good measure, that it came back to her naturally.

She didn't want to make an absent minded slip of the tongue when she met with the envoys, but she meant to converse in Castilian anyway, even if it had been years since she used it in casual conversation. She didn't want anything she had to say to be overheard by the members of court who would be in the room outside of Arthur's presence chamber where she was to meet them, and where anybody could easily overhear them if they spoke in English.

Judging by the way things went when she first arrived here; she couldn't imagine anybody in England spoke or understood Castilian at all, and so she was comforted by the fact that she had a diplomatic tool above her husband and his advisors. Even though she trusted Arthur to follow through with the alliance to the best of his ability, she wanted to make sure that she was able to put in her unabashed opinion into the whole thing.

She had spoken privately with Ambassador Mendoza before, and she was very fond of the man, who was easily the best ambassador she had ever dealt with from her home country. She believed that he only had her best interests at heart, and was able to convey how warmly she felt towards her nephew.

She never met Charles, but she did have correspondence with him, through Mendoza. Her letters were always sent through him, because she knew his status as an ambassador prevented them from getting intercepted by any curious advisors of her husband's. She didn't want them to get into the wrong hands, knowing that some of the things she said about the Duke of York and the affairs of her husband could be constructed as treasonous, even though that was not the intent of the letters.

She had too many enemies, and being careless could be extremely dangerous.

"Katherine of Aragon, Queen of England," a page announced as Mendoza and whom she presumed to be Chapuys entered. They both got on their knees and took off their hats in a show of deference to the Spanish bred English Queen. They knew how happy their master was that their was a Queen of England that was very inclined towards Spanish interests and that was also related to him through blood, and so they intended to paint an accurate picture of how much Charles V really appreciated his aunt.

"I know you have an audience with the King. I just couldn't let you pass without seeing you," Katherine explained in Castilian, causing confusion throughout the room. Mendoza and Chapuys nodded in response, however, and Katherine was relived that she had delivered the line correctly.

"Majesty, your nephew the Emperor sends you his love and filial regards. Always," Mendoza replied, smiling up at the gracious lady. He knew how anxious his master was to come to England and finally meet his aunt and finalize the marriage of himself to the beautiful English Princess, and Mendoza couldn't help but be pleased by the current state of affairs.

"Tell him, if he loves me, he should write to me more often. But I am happy from the bottom of my heart that you are here and that there is going to be a treaty," Katherine playful, yet seriously, asserted. She had waiting for nearly three years for this to happen, and she couldn't be happier that it had gone smoothly so far. Thomas More confided in her that the masque went extremely well, and that Henry danced with his sister Mary, who was not protesting to the envoys being there and was her charming self. Katherine was overjoyed by this, and was not just saying that for diplomatic reasons.

"If I may, your majesty, I have one concern. I hear that the Princess Mary is not inclined to marry a foreign prince, and the Emperor wishes for a compliant bride," Chapuys explained, hoping that the Queen wouldn't be angry at him for asking such a touchy question. He knew that the Queen herself was very excited about this alliance, but he had an understanding that the Tudors were famous for their tempers, and that the Princess Mary was no exception.

"Well, allow me to reassure you, excellence. The Princess Mary is most willing to marry such a noble prince as my nephew clearly is. At first, she was not so excited to leave England, but that is natural for any young girl, but she is a most eager bride," Katherine explained, hiding her discomfort with a pleasant smile. She didn't want them to think that the Tudors were spoiled, even if that was her true opinion of Mary, and she certainly didn't want them to back out on the treaty. Beside, her sister-in-law had clearly straightened out in the week's grace she had before the envoys arrived, and Katherine could finally believe her words.

"I am very pleased to hear this, and I am confident his highness will be as well," Chapuys explained, morphing his face into a diplomatic smile.

Katherine smiled at the two men before dismissing with a sweep of her hand and leaving the room herself. Mendoza and Chapuys then went into the King's presence chamber where King Arthur was seated, flanked by the Duke of Norfolk, the highest ranking peer in the land and some other lords. They followed royal protocol by bowing before the King and once again removing their hats.

"Gentlemen, welcome to my kingdom. I know you will succeed in your efforts to negotiate a successful treaty. For my part, I would like to invite the Emperor to visit her as soon as can be arranged. The visit would give pleasure to both me, and my queen," Arthur greeted the envoys warmly, and as he spoke the last clause he allowed himself to truly smile. He knew how badly Katherine wanted to meet her nephew, having corresponded through writing with him for a long time without actually seeing anything more than a miniature portrait.

He also wanted the Emperor, not just his representatives, to see how beautiful his sister truly was and how lucky he was to land such a bride, even if Arthur counted himself the lucky one to have such a brother-in-law. After all, the Holy Roman Emperor held the most land and men out of any of the other papal nations, and Arthur was glad to be the first one to court such a powerful man's allegiance. If he was going to leave behind a female heir, it was good for his little daughter, when she became Queen, to have powerful relatives, and by securing an alliance between Katherine's nephew and his sister, he knew that Mary would be well-protected once she succeeded him.

"If it please your majesty, the Emperor could be here by the end of the month," Mendoza replied.

"I would be most willing to receive him at that time. Enjoy the rest of your stay excellences, and trust everything Cardinal Wolsey says. He speaks directly for me," Arthur explained before dismissing them with a sweep of his hand. He was very grateful that such a shrewd man like Wolsey was able to step in last minute and negotiate the treaty while his chancellor was sick. He intended to make sure that the Cardinal was rewarded for it in good time.

"That went well," a female voice, one that Arthur recognized as his wife's, greeted as she stepped in the room. Her smile was broad when she sat on the throne next to her husband. He impulsively grabbed her hand and kissed it gently before setting back down on the armrest, not releasing his grip.

"He is coming at the end of the month to take Mary and to sign the treaty. We did it love," Arthur explained, leaning in for a full mouth kiss. When the pulled apart, her smile was as wide as he had seen it in a while, before stillbirths and bastard children began to sour their dream of a peaceful and perfect England.

God forbid anybody dare upset their happiness.

* * *

Brandon rarely walked alone in the royal gardens; usually he was accompanied by Henry or some such friend.

That evening, however, he agreed to meet Princess Mary there privately to discuss the plan to free her from such a terrible marriage, one that Brandon knew that she didn't want to enter into.

It was a beautiful evening, one that he was glad to be out during. It was just cooling down, and the sun was just setting, causing the pond in the garden to have a beautiful reflection. Brandon approached the entrance hesitantly, noticing a girl whose back was turned to him. He assumed it was one of Mary's ladies in waiting, so he tapped her on the back, clearly startling her. "I need to speak with your mistress," he commanded.

The girl smiled at him in a suggestive manner and slowly walked away to go and fetch her mistress, never quite taking her eyes off of Brandon before she absolutely had to. Brandon's face was unmoving the whole time, but he allowed himself to smirk when he saw Mary turn around, her golden hair now loose and her pink dress complimenting her beautiful frame. "My lady, a gentleman is here to speak to you," the lady announced before Mary dismissed her and walked over to Brandon slowly, twirling something around in her fingers before stopping to face him.

"What do you want?" Mary asked sharply and with a hard face, one that could mirror her late father's. She didn't want to publicly be seen speaking to a man of such low standing and to speak so openly about a matter that could possibly be constructed as treasonous. She waited until her ladies were all gone before her face softened; now mirroring her gentle mother's. "I'm so glad you are!" she exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms.

"I would never betray your highness," Brandon replied, rubbing her hair softly. "Have you thought about you are going to take as your husband?" he asked, saying an inward prayer to God that it would be him.

Mary looked up at his handsome face. She wasn't that stupid, she knew that Brandon desired her and she knew in her own heart that his feelings were returned. Her brother and Katherine's anger would be terrible no matter whom she married, but marrying a lowly court gentleman and a notorious womanizer would cause her mother, even Henry, to be disappointed in her. "You are betrothed, aren't you?" she asked instead.

"To Elizabeth Grey, cousin of the Marquess of Dorset. But I don't care! Mary, I've never felt this way before," Brandon proclaimed, lifting her chin up so he could kiss her.

Mary knew that she should pull away, knowing that anybody, including the imperial envoys, could be watching. However, she kissed right back, not daring to take her lips off of his, savoring the moment. "I don't know Charles, I.... they might kill you!" Mary exclaimed, not having considered this before. "Maybe I should just marry him."

"Come on now, your brother wouldn't murder your husband. Exile is the worst punishment, but wouldn't you like to get away from court for a while?" Brandon protested, holding her closer. He didn't just want her for her beauty, she was smart, funny, a better wife than he could have ever imagined for himself. He knew he had a chance with Mary, if it were any other royal lady they would be insulted by his offers, but Mary was sweet, soft, spoiled by her mother to the point where whatever she wanted she'd have it, even if it was forbidden and foolish.

"Why should I give up what I have here to marry you? I could be the Holy Roman Empress, and you propose that I become Mrs. Mary Brandon instead, wife of a plain Englishman. Why should I do that, when most girls would kill for my circumstances?" Mary asked in a teasing manner, but didn't allow her face to show her amusement. She wanted Charles to beg for her, even if she wanted nothing more than to become his wife, regardless of his station.

"Because you love me," he argued, pulling her in for another kiss, a deeper one, a more passionate one. "And because I love you too."

"Oh Charles!" that was all she needed to hear to be convinced. "Marry me! Tonight! I cannot wait!"

Brandon smiled a few moments, taking in how lucky he was and how favored he was by God before replying to her command, which earned him another kiss:

"How could I say no to such a beautiful Princess?"

* * *

"Goodnight your grace," one of Henry's trusted grooms said to him before blowing out his candles and settling on the pallet next to his master. Henry had no trouble falling asleep that night, even if his mind was fixated on Anne Boleyn and the masque earlier that night.

_The candles created a dim sense of golden light in Whitehall's beautiful maze of corridors, and Henry felt at ease walking through them. To match the color of the room, he was wearing rich cloth of gold, finer than any clothing he knew to be in possession of. He walked slowly, cautiously, savoring the candles and the beauty before coming to the door wall and turning. _

_She was just standing there, a goddess of golden perfection in her gown. Anne's hair hung down her back in black little ringlets and she stared wordlessly at him. _

_It was all the invitation Henry needed to chase after her, but to his dismay, she ran away, and turn the corner of one of the walls. To catch up with her, he slide across the reminder of the floor and caught himself on the wall she was running around and looked for her face. Anne had a playful smile on her face as she played a game with him. He looked for her face, but she kept peaking around corners and moving in circles around the barrier. _

_Finally, she had outwitted him and she ran into a room with an open door. Henry was so entranced that he had to follow her, and he ran as quickly as he can, opening the door and finding her sitting there, her chest moving up and down in anticipation._

"_Anne." One word was all he needed to say, in his mind. He quickly slid his hand under her dress. _

"_No, not like this," she protested, putting her hands on his chest and shoving him away. Her face was surprised but determined. _

"_How?" he asked, knowing even in his dream that he would do anything to have her, she just needed to say the words and he would obey. He was spellbound. _

_She held her hand out as if to invite him, and then spoke. "Seduce me." _

_All the sudden her voice carried to the other side of the room, and Henry follow with his head, revealing Anne's frame standing in-between two doors that were opened. "Write letters to me, and poems, I love poems. Ravish me with your words. Seduce me," she whispered in a voice like a siren's call. She closed the doors. _

_Henry had to follow her; he had to know more about Anne. He opened the doors forcefully, only to find her naked, trying to cover herself. He couldn't contain his excitement, and his face enveloped into a smile. _

He shot up out of bed violently, sweating. "Your grace?" his groom asked, shooting up alongside with him and holding a dagger in his hand, ready to strike at any intruder.

"It's alright, she's gone."

* * *

"Do you, Mr. Charles Brandon, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife in the eyes of God almighty?"

Brandon couldn't believe that he was standing here next to a King's daughter, a King's sister, about to make her his wife, so much so that he could hardly say "I do."

Even in the dim light of Whitehall's basement, Mary looked absolutely stunning in her expensive white gown with gold trimmings, looking every inch the Princess she truly was, even if she was marrying a man so far below her. Brandon gave her an encouraging smile, knowing that this could not be easy for her, to renounce whatever security she had as a Princess of England to marry a man of no noble blood or standing for love.

"And do you, Princess Mary Tudor, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband in the eyes of God almighty?" the priest, well paid by Mary's own household expenses to keep his tongue until they exposed their secret marriage privately, asked.

"I do," she replied, squeezing Charles' hand tighter.

Mary had used a great deal of her own allowance for gowns to make this marriage happen in the span of two hours since they decided to wed. The priest was well-paid to keep quiet, as no witnesses besides two of Mary's most trusted ladies were present. She had been given extra money for new gowns for when the Emperor arrived, but she knew that it would no longer be necessary, as the Emperor would not be paying a visit to draw up a marriage treaty, not once he heard that she had forsaken his offer as a bridegroom for a man of little standing but to a man who she could happily see herself spending the rest of her life with.

Materially, she knew that she would have been much better off alongside the Holy Roman Emperor, and that politically her children would be heirs to Spain at least, and contenders for the Holy Roman Empire. Her niece would be more secure on the English throne and she would have earned the devotion of her sister-in-law and her brother.

However, as she stood here side by side with Charles Brandon, she could picture herself living a comfortable life alongside this man. She loved him so much already, for freeing her from an arranged marriage and for just the way he was. Once Arthur and Katherine got over their initial disappointment, she knew that Arthur would be happy for her and that he would support her new marriage after he was given some time to explain himself to Charles V.

For the meantime, she would be content to wait out the storm alongside Charles. She would be content with living humbler as long as it meant being with the man that she loved. She was relived that she wouldn't be subjected to the same fate as other Princess', forced to produce a male heir or risk being set aside. She didn't want to be pressured while she was pregnant, she wanted to be comfortable, and she knew that Charles would love their children, not based on the merits of their sex, but because they were a produce of their love.

How could she give up all that up for the title of Empress?

"I now pronounce you man and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Brandon. You may kiss the bride, sir," the priest announced.

Charles gladly cupped his wife's face into his hands and planted a loving kiss on her lips, and hoped it would be their first of many to come.

_Wow! Done! I am actually very proud of this chapter, it's the first time I've added the show's plot line into this. I hope you all enjoyed it! Until next time, don't forget to review :)_


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! Let me just say, that I got about fifteen reviews on the last chapter, which was a personal best for me, so I just wanted to thank everybody who has reviewed/favorited/alerted this story. I reached over 200 reviews, and let me tell you, I never thought that was possible! You are all the best! This chapter will also bear some resemblance to some season one episodes of the series, but I've had to change stuff around to fit the plot of this story. However, in the case of Mary Boleyn, I made her marry William Carey and have her two children by him, which the show left out (for the most part).

Huge thanks to ReganX, who continues to brainstorm ideas with me. If you haven't read her stories, "Doubt," "On the Edge of a Golden World" and "Three People in a Marriage" please get on that :) Also to all my loyal reviewers, you know who you are, and you are all amazing.

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of fanfiction, and it's AU. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of actual events, and all recognizable characters belong to Showtime and history. I don't own history, I just play around with it ;]

Without further ado, the twenty-first installment of King Arthur II! Brace yourselves, it's longer than usual. Don't forget to review!

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_July 23, 1523_

"Make way for her royal highness, the Princess of Wales, make way now!"

Young Mary Tudor, the only living child of King Arthur and Queen Katherine, walked with her head held up high through the maze of corridors and courtiers at Whitehall palace, not allowing her face to reveal for one second how extremely anxious she was to reach her mother's rooms, who she had not seen in what seemed like too long for a young girl of seven. Instead of allowing her face to betray her emotions, she kept herself stoic, hoping to please her parents with how well she behaved, and as not to upset her governess, Lady Salisbury.

She had heard that her papa and mama had planned great banquets, jousts, and other entertainments to celebrate her seventh birthday, and Mary was thrilled when she got the message inviting her to court for an extended stay. It was rare that she left the confines of Ludlow Castle, and although she relished and enjoyed her great title, usually only bestowed on a male heir; she often missed her parents, who were not able to visit as often as either parties would have liked.

If they couldn't come to her, she would be more than happy to come to them.

Court was more exciting than her household anyway. In Wales, she was sheltered from most of the exciting stuff, as one of her companions told her in strict confidence. She only thought it was right and proper that she be beside her parents, after all, as Salisbury told her, she was set to inherit someday and she had to learn eventually how to govern a country, as well as her mother and father did. Even if Salisbury told her that residing at Ludlow Castle was a great honor and that most royal children had their own establishment, Mary didn't see it that way. She felt that being at Whitehall beside her mama and papa and attending all of the exciting events that took place daily was much greater of an honor than staying in dreary Wales.

Once Mary reached her mother's rooms, she wasted no time bursting through the heavy oak doors, forgoing whatever intention she had of curtsying properly, and ran straight into her mother's outstretched arms. She could barely hear her governess' coos of restraint and her kind, yet firm voice warning her that it was not proper to assault the Queen in such a matter.

"It's quite alright Lady Salisbury, I already know my darling girl is a true-blooded Princess, she needs no formalities around me. You may leave us, so you may see if the Princess of Wales' rooms are readied, as they should be, but you never know with these people," Katherine half-joked, waving the governess away with her hand before turning her attention to her daughter, studying her quickly maturing face closely. "I heard it was somebody's birthday."

Mary, holding back her giggles at her mother's attempt at a teasing remark, played along. "I wonder whose it is.... I haven't a clue!" Mary cleverly replied, kissing her mother's check and motioning that she wanted to be put down, as she could tell her mother was struggling with her weight.

"I hope I remembered to get them a gift!" Katherine exclaimed, feigning worry. She so rarely had moments like this with her daughter, where she could forget her dignity for just a few minutes to act as a true mother to a true daughter. Sometimes she longed to just leave Whitehall for months on end, staying at Ludlow and teaching her daughter life lessons, as her own mother used to do. But she knew that Mary was born under auspicious circumstances, unlike Katherine, Mary was going to be a Queen Regent someday, something that made Katherine very proud, but restricted her relationship with her daughter to some degree.

Mary could no longer contain her laughter, so she burst out into giggles, causing Katherine to break her mock-serious tone, and she too began to laugh. "I should hope I get a gift, hopefully a new gown!" Mary asserted, smiling up at her mother in hopes of getting a conformation on this. She loved the gowns her mama designed better than her regular seamstress, since she could tell that her mama paid special attention to the details and beauty of the gown opposed to her seamstress who just, it seemed to Mary, slopped things together.

When she became Queen, she would make sure that her seamstress was just as good as her mama, if not better, if that was possible!

"Oh I don't know, you'll have to wait till tonight to find out," Katherine replied. She knew that it was bad for her and Arthur to be so indulgent with Mary, considering that the habit was most likely to carry over when she became Queen, but they both couldn't help it. Mary was truly a blessing to them, their only living child after so many failures. They wanted to give her the best of everything, because they knew how precious life could really be, even if that life was as innocent as a child's.

Mary pouted for a moment, before remembering what tonight was. Her papa promised that they would have a grand fireworks display, rivaling any birthday for a Princess ever seen, and there would be a feast with jesters and she would get to sit next to her mama on the royal dais that overlooked the rest of the court. Her uncle, her aunt, and her grandmother would all be there as well, and they would all present her with gifts, as well as her parents. She could wait until then.

"How are your lessons progressing?" Katherine asked after Mary made herself comfortable on a chair across from her. There was a fire going, even though it was the midst of July, and both ladies were feeling rather hot, so Katherine called on Maria to bring them some wine.

She knew it was a waste of breath to ask Mary about her lessons, but she felt the need to. Sir Thomas More had declined to be Mary's tutor, citing that he needed to spend time with his own family, and the royal couple accepted it without hesitation. More was an honest man, and had serviced them well when he tutored Henry some years before.

Katherine then took matters into her own hands and hired a great Spanish scholar who was living in England at the time, named Juan Luis Vives. He often wrote Katherine updates on how her daughter was progressing, and Katherine knew that Mary was a clever child, which was a relief. It was one thing to leave a female heiress, but it was another thing if she was unfit to rule. It was a comfort to know that Mary wasn't a dullard.

"They are wonderful, mama, truly wonderful. Senor Vives is a great teacher, and I hope that someday I will be able to speak fluent Castilian and Latin with you, not just exchange phrases," Mary confided. She loved her lessons, they were truly the most exciting part of her day, and Senor Vives told her daily how quickly she had progressed for such a young child. She had no doubt that she was special, and it was clear in the way her mama and papa treated her. She was happy to make them proud.

"I hope so too, my daughter. Languages will make you a great diplomat," Katherine replied in Latin, smiling at Mary, testing her. She promised herself that she would be kinder to Mary than her own tutors were with her, and how she knew that Margaret Beaufort treated her grandchildren when she was alive, but she needed to know if Mary was as intelligent as her tutor candidly claimed.

"I hope so, especially when I deal with my cousin the Emperor," Mary replied in Castilian instead of Latin, wanting to prove to her mother that she knew both well enough. She wanted her to be pleased.

"Oh bravo Mary, bravo!" Katherine exclaimed, impulsively rising up and swooping her daughter into her arms. "Your papa and I are so proud of you, and how far you've come. When I was your age, I wasn't nearly half as clever. Your grandmother Isabella would be so proud of you; she was fond of female scholars, as she was one herself," she explained, revealing a glimpse into Mary's family heritage on her side, as she was sure that Mary had received the whole story on how the Tudors came about, and the history of the English throne in general.

Before Mary could respond, Maria came back in with wine and a message. "The King is here to see you both."

Arthur came rushing in as soon as Maria announced, not wasting any time in greeting his daughter and wife. "Once I heard that my Princess was here, England's finest gem, I had to come down and see for myself. Sure enough, they don't lie to me," Arthur happily crowed, kissing his daughter's forehead before setting her down again.

"Hello papa, I'm so excited for tonight!" Mary exclaimed.

"I'm sure you are, and I am excited for it as well, but what I need you to do right now is go on to your rooms and get ready, there's a special surprise waiting for you once you get there. Maria, do you mind taking the Princess of Wales to her rooms while the Queen and I talk privately?" Arthur commanded, even if he coached it as a request, but despite his calm tone his face left no room for argument.

"Of course, come with me my Lady Princess," Maria requested, holding her hand out for the Princess to take after she said her goodbyes to both of her parents.

"Arthur, she just got here, you didn't need to usher her out so quickly," Katherine said once she was sure Mary and Maria were out of earshot. She was confused by her husband's behavior; usually he would never dismiss their daughter so abruptly, especially since they hardly saw her anymore!

"You best sit down Katherine," Arthur gently suggested, leading his wife back over to the chair she was sitting on before.

He knew for a fact that she wasn't going to like this one at all, and that her reaction was likely to be worse than when she found out that he had ennobled Henry, which caused her to miscarry their first child, the first of many. If he reacted the way he did when he heard the news, it was libel that Katherine would react ten, maybe twenty times worse, especially since his sister had the nerve to jilt her nephew, her all powerful nephew.

Oh, he knew that his sister Mary was less than pleased about being forced into an arranged marriage, but he didn't think that she'd take such a drastic step that could make diplomatic relations between The Emperor and him to freeze over. He thought that he had been very generous to her, allowing her to wait until she was fifteen to marry and marrying her to a man that was close to her in age. He had even thought that she would enter in the marriage a little bit willing after his gentle mother sorted things out, considering how pleased she looked the masque according to eyewitnesses.

He never even considered that marrying Charles Brandon would ever cross her mind! He knew that they were flirty with each other at times, but he never thought anything of it; as he believed Mary held the knowledge of her royal birth accountable and knowing that as a Princess, it would be unwise to take it any further than courtly gestures. He knew that Katherine was worried to some degree about Mary's clear affection towards Brandon, but he always believed his sister was smarter than that. He was sorely displeased, and angered, to find out otherwise, especially when he had worked tirelessly to form an alliance that she ruined.

When one of Mary's ladies in waiting, who did not even disclose her name to him, waited in his presence chamber for four hours with an important message, he was surprised to say the least to see such a young woman waiting, alone, to talk to him, but let her in nonetheless. She had witnessed the secret marriage of his sister and Brandon in the basement of Whitehall, and the consummation that followed shortly after in Mary's chambers.

She confided in Arthur that she was chosen as a witness because of her loyalty towards the Princess Mary, but she felt that her loyalty towards her sovereign was greater. She solemnly beseeched Arthur not to be too hard on his sister, claiming that Mary was young and somewhat foolish, and that Brandon had seduced her into it. Arthur dismissed her shortly after, never inquiring her name, stuffed a fistful of gold crowns in her hand, and vowed to forget her face. He was in too much of a shock to do anything else.

After he heard the news, he sat down to processes it. Yes, it was likely that Brandon was no innocent in the processes, and that he probably hatched the plot. However, he knew his sister was no unwitting victim of a handsome man's charms, and that she was more than likely overjoyed to go along with such a sordid and disastrous plan.

He was very angry, but didn't show it until he dismissed all of his attendants, and even then the worst he did was scream a few obscenities. This was a greater challenge than Flodden, but he was not a man who lost his temper.

Then he thought of what to do from there. He knew from the minute he had calmed down that Katherine needed to know before it became public, so she too could resolve her anger and help him devise a plan to clear themselves of this mess. However, Katherine was going to take the news terribly, he knew that from the minute he heard it. Not only was her nephew jilted, but this would make their daughter's reign much harder than anticipated, as she may not have the help of the Emperor now, just his scorn.

So he waited until his daughter had visited Katherine's apartments before heading down there himself, giving them time to catch up and allowing Katherine's spirits to be lifted. If she was in a bright mood when he came, he could only hope that the news would be less terrible to her. After all, Katherine always said that her chief concern in life was their daughter, and after she saw how well she looked and how clever she had become, Arthur figured anything would be trivial in comparison.

How wrong he truly was.

"That stupid slut! She is unworthy to bear the title Princess! What right does she have, an ignorant fool in the ways of the world, to jilt my nephew, the Holy Roman EMPEROR, who so kindly condescended to marry her, the youngest daughter of an URSPER!" Katherine shrilly exclaimed, causing all of her ladies to shrink back into a corner of her room, uncomfortably pretending to be preoccupied with some other task, as if to look like they weren't listening in.

Arthur decided to ignore the comment about his less than royal lineage, knowing that it was said out of anger, not truth. However, he was quick to try and stop her from becoming physically ill over this, knowing that his wife's health had never been the greatest. "Please, darling, don't get overworked about this. We will just have to find a way to fix this," Arthur suggested, moving once more to try and make her sit down on a chair.

"Please tell me; oh for the love of God tell me, that the two of them did not consummate the marriage?" Katherine asked, speaking in measured tones more disheartening than shrill one just moments beforehand. She couldn't believe that this was happening to her, that God would punish her like this. First, He did not see it fit to bless her with a son. Second, He saw it fit to bless Henry with a beautiful, healthy bastard son. And now this! Why would He test her like this?

"I'm afraid they did," Arthur honestly answered, bracing himself for more screaming. He had truly held onto some hope that the two of them had not slept with each other, because then an annulment could easily be obtained and it would be like Mary had never married Brandon. He had considered threatening Mary with something terrible unless she lied about her virginity, but he thought against that. It was a grave sin, and a terrible thing to do to his sister, even if she had betrayed him.

"Then we will just have to execute Brandon," Katherine seriously replied, staring deep into his eyes. If Brandon died as an executed traitor, Mary would not need to have a mourning period for her dead 'husband' and they could continue with the treaty like nothing had ever happened. Besides, it wasn't like Brandon was an innocent this, and it would be a fitting way to punish them both for daring to flaunt their orders, the ordained King and Queen of England, by God's divine right.

"We can't do that! It would sit ill with the people, with my brother, and it would be much harder to hide their marriage that way in any case. What would cause me to sign Brandon's death warrant if he was nothing more than a flamboyant womanizer? No Katherine, that won't do. Mary will have to stay married to Brandon, and we will just offer the Emperor another bride," Arthur proposed. He knew that the Emperor was anxious to marry, in order to father an heir, so offering him his own daughter Mary would not sit well, considering she was far too young to for childbirth and marriage.

He really only had two options; his sister Margaret or his mother. Margaret had married some other man in Scotland and still continued to act as Regent for her young son, so she wouldn't do. He knew that his mother was far too old to be considering a fertile bride, and that Charles would no doubt refuse, diplomatically of course, but it would still be refusal.

He looked at Katherine, who had calmed down considerably, at least outwardly, and he could tell that she was thinking the same thing. They had nobody, and no plan to dig themselves out of this. Arthur could only hope that the Emperor would forgive his country, considering that he was very fond of his aunt, but that meant the visit would be cancelled, one that he knew Katherine was looking forward too, as well as the alliance and marriage.

"I will write to my nephew and apologize. We just have to think of a way to punish those two fools for their idiotic behavior, and I do consider execution to be the best solution. Come on Arthur! Who cares about the immediate consequences, think of your daughter?" Katherine begged. It would work, it was the only hope they had at making sure Mary would have an easier time as Queen, and she knew that Arthur could die happily knowing that his throne would be well-taken care of. Her dear husband's health wasn't the best, and Mary needed to be ready to take over, and she would need help.

"Katherine... I can't. I don't condone it; I will send them away into exile and give Brandon just enough money to get by, and surely not enough for him to comfortably support a Princess' income. They have no houses outside of London, so they will also have to depend on the charity of others when I send them into exile," Arthur explained, pausing a moment before continuing. "I can only pray that the Emperor finds another bride quickly, and that he is amiable towards Mary when she succeeds me. They are cousins after all."

"I hope you are making the right choice Arthur, I really do. Because if you aren't, and it turns out that this is going to have grave consequences in the future, our daughter will suffer for it, not us. That is worst than the death of one stupid boy, I assure you. But you are King, my lord, and your word is law," Katherine added after remembering her promise to him. However, she couldn't help but worry.

God save them if Arthur miscalculated.

* * *

Mary knew that she would be summoned by her brother sooner than later, because she was almost positive one of the few witnesses to her secret marriage to Charles Brandon would break their word and tell Arthur or the Queen.

She didn't want it to happen, and she didn't expect it to happen just two days after! She didn't act any differently outwardly, acting as if she was truly the intended bride of the Emperor instead of the wife to Charles Brandon, but deep in her heart she had never felt so happy, and scared.

Arthur would not kill her, or Charles, she knew that much. Her brother was a benevolent king, who hardly lost his temper let alone executed people. He would punish her though, she knew that the minute she married Charles, but she was too caught up in her love marriage to care. After all, he made her the most happy she had ever been, and there was no way they could take him away, not any reasonable way at least. She made sure that they consummated it the night of the marriage, so no annulment could be obtained and she knew her brother well enough.

So her plan was to tell Arthur, alone, in confidence, once her niece had settled into court. Her little namesake brightened both of her parents' moods considerably when she was around, and Mary figured her best bet would to confide in Arthur about her decision when his daughter was around, hoping that he would be more inclined to not punish them, or assign a less severe one.

Now the word had gotten out much sooner than she would have liked, and she had to figure out a way to pacify him. Arthur's anger would have been less if she would have told him in person, she was sure of it, but at least little Mary was around, so he would be gentler with his child there, at least she hoped.

However, she would be lying if Arthur's anger was what she was truly worried about. It was obvious that Katherine favored Imperial interests, due to her familial ties to the Emperor, and Mary knew that she would be sorely displeased with her decision to marry Brandon and ruin all of their plans. Not even her daughter's presence would pacify the Queen's anger towards Mary; in fact, it could inflame it more. The Queen's main reason for wanting this marriage was not just because of her ties to the Emperor, but because she wanted her daughter Mary to have an easier time when she became Queen someday, and with powerful relatives controlling the Holy Roman Empire, Mary would be safer.

While Mary loved her niece very much, as she thought she was a sweet girl with good qualities from both parents, she felt like Katherine's motives were purely selfish. She only cared about her own daughter and didn't care that she threw away Mary's chances at being in a marriage filled with love, much like Katherine's own. Mary couldn't, and didn't, allow Katherine, or her brother for that matter, to control her own personal happiness.

The amount of influence Katherine had over Arthur was scary as well, to both Mary and her beloved brother Henry. Henry confided in her that Katherine had threatened to blackmail him into the church, so he wouldn't accept his bastard and her daughter's throne would be secure when the time came. If it wasn't for Arthur, for once in his life, having the audacity to stand up to his shrewd and in Mary's opinion, wicked wife; Henry would probably be a priest by now and little Hal FitzYork, her godson, would be in the hands of some impoverished peasant family.

Mary could only hope that Arthur wouldn't be influenced by Katherine in this matter as well, because Mary had a feeling once Katherine heard, and she was sure Arthur told her right away, she would demand for Charles' head on a spike outside the Tower. Mary knew that Arthur would never conceive that plot in his own head, but she didn't doubt her sister-in-law would, the same woman who she used to love as a child Mary now couldn't stand.

"Are we going to go?" Charles asked her as he wrapped his arms around her torso and began to read the same well-phrased message, one that didn't reveal why Arthur wanted to see them, but both had a pretty good guess.

"Of course, we have no choice. He is still the King, you know, even though you and your friends seem to think Henry is," Mary lightly teased. She thought it was admirable how much Henry's circle of friends treated him so well, so highly, but at the same time, she knew it was dangerous if Katherine even found out. "Who knows, it could just be them wanting to see me about my 'marriage' to the Emperor."

"I doubt it, they seemed to have phrased it like they want both of us to come," Brandon replied as he began to plant kisses on her neck before turning her around to face him, causing Mary to start giggling. "But I don't really want to go, I'd rather just stay in bed all day," Charles suggestively commented before kissing his wife passionately. Even though they had only been married for two days, he didn't think he'd ever get sick of kissing her.

"Charles! That's lewd, even for you," Mary mock-scolded, but allowed a smile to curve her lips before returning back to their conversation. "I do think I should go alone though. I think if we went together, it would be an admission of our guilt," Mary suggested. While she wasn't ashamed to have married a man of such low-standing, because she did truly love him; however, it could be constructed as a crime and she wanted to play it safe if she still could.

"What guilt? Mary, we did what our hearts told us to do. The King is not heartless, he loves the Queen very much, he will understand sweetheart. I want to come with you, and I want everyone to be envious of the love we share and how brave we were to make a marriage from it, despite the gap in status," Charles explained, smiling at her.

"Okay, you can come. Just put on something nicer, and I will too," Mary conceded. Every time Charles admitted his love for her, she went weak and would do anything he told her, even if it was to follow him to hell and back.

After about an hour, in which Mary took time to make herself presentable, the newlyweds headed to the King's presence chamber, which strangely lacked any other petitioners besides the two of them, even though courtiers still stood in and around it. As usual, Katherine was seated directly beside Arthur, and kept her face neutral, as did Arthur.

Mary knew then that they had found out, and that there was no hope of turning back now.

"Princess Mary, why are you with this man?" Katherine asked first, playing ignorant. She wanted Mary to admit it, before this whole court; that she had shamed herself by jilting the Emperor and marrying a notorious womanizer and low-born heathen, who was only at court because his father died as a standard bearer.

"Because he is my husband, your majesty," Mary bravely responded, keeping her arm securely rested on Charles' forearm and staring directly at her sister-in-law. She would not be bullied, not now, now that she had tested what it felt like to be freed from royal oblations and alliances.

"We did not ask you to bring your husband, Mistress Brandon," Arthur announced, pointedly using the royal plural that he so rarely used, and calling her by her new title, even if she was still technically a Princess of England. "He may leave us now," he commanded, smiling inwardly when Brandon fumbled a bow and hurried out of the room.

Even if he wasn't going to make Mary renounce her marriage, he wanted her to understand that what she did was wrong, and he also wanted to show his subjects that he wasn't a soft man, guided by the actions of his wife alone. Yes, he relied on Katherine for certain things and he loved his family very much, but that didn't mean he liked his orders to be brazenly flaunted, and he intended to make an example out of Mary.

"Are you a fool then? You could have been the Holy Roman Empress; instead you are now just a plain Englishwoman. Have you no shame, no dignity?!" Katherine shouted, rising slightly from her chair. She settled down once Arthur placed his hand on her arm and lowered her back down on the chair, but she continued to shout from her seated place. "So, little spoiled Mary, what do you have to say for yourself?!"

"I love him, your majesties, with every fiber of my being. Surely you understand that!" Mary argued, even though she was visibly shaken, she refused to give up her fight. She wouldn't give Charles up, no matter what threats they heaped on her, but the Queen's voice was imposing and scary. "I had no desire to leave England, and to marry a man who I have never meant."

"We take it as a grave insult, that our most entirely beloved sister chose to flaunt our generosity and kindness by marrying a man who we do not consider even to be worthy of the title gentleman. Had we known your grievances, we may have been able to consul you, but the fact remains that as your lord and King, we intended for you to marry the Emperor Charles and you disobeyed!" Arthur scolded harshly.

"My nephew was clearly not worthy for your sister, your majesty," Katherine commented aside to Arthur, even though Mary could clearly hear it. "I wonder what he will have to say once we tell him that his visit to England has been cancelled because my sister-in-law is a damned fool!" Katherine shouted, her voice rising with every statement, her anger unmanageable. She vowed that she would keep herself controlled, but upon seeing the stupid girl she couldn't stop the words from flowing, although she refused to admit that in any way her daughter would need aid as Queen, even if it was the truth. To do so would be weak, and neither Katherine of Aragon nor her daughter would ever risk being considered weak.

"We should hope that his highness will be pacified with our beloved Queen's letters and friendship towards our nephew, but for the mean time.... Mistress Brandon, you are banned from London until I decided otherwise, and I am cutting off your allowance. You will remove yourself from my sight. I hope it was all worth it," Arthur explained, allowing himself to glare just once at his sister with an angry scowl. He then dismissed Mary; until he wished to see her face again he wouldn't have to.

Katherine smiled one last time at her sister-in-law; the hint of mirth in her eyes was visible to everybody around her.

While King Arthur and Queen Katherine were peaceful and benevolent, they knew when to be strict and fearful, and when it came to the wellbeing of their daughter, they knew which one to choose.

* * *

_A Month Later_

Henry wanted so badly to hear word back from Anne, so much that it consumed his thoughts completely. He knew that there were more important things to be preoccupied than just a girl, but he couldn't help himself, she was special to him in some strange way, more important and attractive than a Bessie Blount or any of his other liaisons.

She seemed perfect to him, without a fault.

He should have been worried about how Brandon and Mary were faring. While he thought that it was brave, in a foolish way, for them to get married, he still felt protective over Mary and wanted to know how his best friend was treating his most beloved sister, who had been a companion to him during his lonely days at Eltham, so he wrote to them often, but didn't anxiously await their replies like he did with Anne.

When he found out that Katherine and Arthur, but he was sure it was Katherine's idea, exiled them out of London, he knew that Brandon would have to relay on the charity of somebody for money and a place for them to live, probably his mother via her royal allowance that Arthur continued to give to her despite his anger towards her son. However, Henry knew that Mary would be unhappy in a common dwelling, and he didn't want their beautiful marriage to sour, so he allowed them to stay in one of his houses in Yorkshire and sent them monthly funds, as he was the richest man in England besides the King.

But after he sent them on their way, he only wrote to them occasionally and thought about them rarely. Not since he decided to court Anne Boleyn, anyway.

He sent her pendants a few days after the masque, having been fascinated by her and he wanted to shower some tokens of affection on her. He had one of the local jewelers, who wouldn't tell Arthur or Katherine what he was charged with, to make some beautiful ones and sent them to Anne, who was a lady-in-waiting to Katherine, and he patiently waited for a response, but he could only hope she would accept them.

She didn't.

Shortly after he sent the letter and pendants, they were returned to him by one of Anne's friends, or something, he didn't ask. They were accompanied by a letter that he kept, because he admired the way she wrote and her daintily little penmanship, as sloppy as it was he could tell that she put some extra care to make sure that a letter written to the Duke of York wasn't sloppy or embarrassing.

_Your grace,_

_It gives me such a pain and grief to return the gifts you gave to me; alas, they were too beautiful and I unworthy of receive them. I think I never gave your grace cause to give them to me, since I am nothing. Give them, I pray you, to a lady more deserving of your grace's affection. I am leaving now, to my family's house at Hever. I shall think of you on the journey there._

_Your loving servant,_

_Anne Boleyn_

It broke his heart at the time to receive such a letter back, no matter how much he currently cherished it. He didn't know a lady more deserving of such gifts than her, he was spellbound by her from the minute he realized that she had grown from an awkward fourteen year old to a ripe and beautiful sixteen. He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner!

She left court, and hadn't returned since he sent those pendants. He continued to send her gifts after that, hoping that she would return. She kept them, which was a good sign to him, a sign that she encouraged such affection coming from him, but there was never a letter or response back. She had to write back soon, she just had to, or else Henry would go mad with anticipation.

"Your grace, you have a letter," one of his grooms announced, pulling him from his thoughts of woe. He allowed himself to hope, just for one moment, that it was from her. He hurriedly opened it, and smiled widely once he read who it was from.

_My lord,_

_How your tokens and signs of affection frighten me. How can I be to you what you think me to be? You know I am a commoner and I think myself unworthy of your love, though the offer of it and the passion of your grace's words and looks touch both my heart and soul. You have flattered me with so many and such wondrous gifts. Allow me to send you this token in return, small as it is, and allow me to remain, in all things, your ever loving servant. _

_Anne_

He smiled widely at her proclamation that his gifts pleased her, no matter how modestly she put it. He gently unwrapped the cloth which accompanied the letter, and inside revealed a locket. He opened it, and saw that inside was a portrait of his love, Anne, and it was a beautiful and flattering one at that. He closed it, rather harshly, and began to ponder his options.

He adored her, he knew that much, and that he had to be with her again. He was distressed that she left court so abruptly and that she hadn't returned despite his pleading and constant showering of gifts. So if she wouldn't come to be with him, he had to go and be with her, at Hever Castle. He yelled a sharp command to the members of his household, telling them to saddle his horse and prepare for a journey to Hever Castle, but not to tell anybody where he was going, just that he went hunting.

It was a hard ride, because of how fast he pushed his horse, but he arrived there in about two hours, even though it seemed like days to him. He wasted no time in dismounting and bursting through the doors of the quaint country home.

"Anne, Anne!" Henry shouted, and shortly after, Anne revealed herself on the top story of her family's home, with a broad smile on her face. Henry rushed up the stairs to go and be with her.

She was in a curtsy when he came up the stairs, and she looked more beautiful to him than the last time he saw her. "You must know I desire you with all my heart," he proclaimed softly, before dragging her out of her curtsy and placing a hard, yet passionate, kiss on her lips. He was so pleased that she returned it instead of fighting it. He wanted her so badly to agree with the proposal he was going to make.

"Anne I want to say something to you. If it please you to be my true loyal mistress and friend, to give yourself up to me body and soul; I promise, I'll take you as my only mistress. I won't have a thought or affection for anyone else. If you agree, I promise, I shall serve only you," Henry suggested, his voice pleading. He held her by the shoulders, his mind racing in anticipation of what she was going to say.

He knew that being a mistress was a lot less noble than being a wife, but most of the girls at court seemed to enjoy being with him. He never bothered himself with being faithful by sticking to one woman though; even when he was with Bessie, his first mistress, when he was so new at all of it, he still did not limit himself to just one woman. This would be the first time he did such a thing, and he wanted so badly for Anne to agree, because he would do anything for her.

"Your mistress...." Anne replied after some time, and to Henry, it seemed like she was pondering it and taking it into serious consideration.

If she refused, he wasn't sure what he would do with himself.

"Yes, and you will have everything you need, everything within my power to give to you is yours, just ask," Henry continued, offering her much more than he'd ever offer any other person. While he wasn't selfish with his money, quite the contrary, he didn't ever get in the habit of buying woman little trinkets. That is, until he fell for Anne. However generous the offer seemed to Henry, he noticed that Anne didn't seem to be pleased with it, and her face looked very sour and upset. "What is it?" he asked, concerned. The last thing he wanted was for her to be unhappy.

"What have I done to make you treat me like this?" Anne inquired, her voice quivering. She knew what she had to say to him, she knew that she had to refuse, yet it was so hard to do it in person now that he was here. She knew that he wanted her to be his mistress, but she couldn't stomach that. She knew what it led to, especially with somebody like him with an unstable position; she just wasn't willing to risk it. Her virtues, and virginity, were far too important for that.

"Done?" Henry asked, taken aback by her statement. "What fault have I committed? Tell me, tell me," he pleaded. He couldn't imagine that such a generous offer would be met with that much disdain. He thought that she had feelings for him.

"Your grace, I have already given my maidenhead into my husband's hands, and whoever he is, only he will have it!" Anne asserted, following Henry to the edge of her staircase. As much as she desired him, as she had since she met him and had dreams about being with him as a immature teenager, she was smarter than that and deserved better than to be a mistress.

"Oh Anne," Henry lamented.

"Because I know how it goes otherwise! My sister is called the Great prostitute by everyone in France!" Anne exclaimed, pleading her case, wanting him to understand why. She vowed, not only to herself but to many of her old friends in France, that she would stay pure until marriage. She refused to succumb to such a handsome man's pleas and offers, no matter how tempting they seemed. She would not suffer the same fate as her sister.

"I'm so sorry if I have offended you, I did not mean to. I spoke plainly of my true feelings," Henry apologized. He couldn't believe he had made himself out to be such a fool! She had played him all along, deceived him into believing that she wanted to be with him, stringing him along and happily accepting his gifts, then pleading virtue when he wanted to consummate it all. He had to believe that somebody put her up to it, or that she had an arranged marriage. Still, he couldn't take to be in the place anymore, so he stormed out, pushing past the grooms in Boleyn livery at the door and took off back to Whitehall.

"Your grace...." Anne called after him, but it was too late, he was already out the door and she heard his horse neigh and gallop into the distance. She felt tears threaten to fall, she didn't like to hurt him like that, but she had to, for her own sanity and virtue.

"Good for you, Annie," Anne heard a female voice compliment, and she turned around to see her sister Mary balancing her baby daughter, Katherine, on her hip and resting her other hand on the swell of her pregnant belly.

Anne had been sent to Hever by her father and uncle, who advised her to stay away from Henry to see if his feelings were sincere, or if she was just going to be another one of his one-time mistresses. Her father had seen her dancing with Henry at the masque and how he had selected her out of every other girl in it, even his own sister! Nevertheless, they needed time to strategize and they didn't trust Anne to keep her head on straight if she was around him for too long. She hated that she was expected to be a mere mindless pawn in her family's game, but she had to play along. He was her father, after all.

But soon she actually got lonely at Hever, since George's and her father's visits were seldom at best. So her father arranged for Mary to leave court for the birth of her second child, so she could hopefully bear her husband a healthy son and keep Anne company. Anne was glad for it, Mary and her were closer now that they had spent time in the Queen's household together and she had missed her sister when she went away from court for a little while to marry Sir William Carey, and she was overjoyed when she came back to once again serve in the Queen's household.

She felt ashamed that Mary had been listening, and then realized how she had insulted her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to use you as an excuse..." she was cut off.

"Stop it. I'm glad that my liaisons in France were useful for some purpose other than giving me great shame and humiliation. You deserve better than what he was offering you, sister, and I'm glad you saw that," Mary complimented, adjusting little Katherine so she could be more comfortable. The second pregnancy was taking its toll on her and it was hard for her to support the weight of her nearly one-year old daughter.

Anne, sensing Mary's problem with Katherine, offered out her arms and took her little niece in her arms, rocking her back and forth and making sure she was comfortable in her arms before continuing. "But you've done well for yourself, Mary, you have a beautiful daughter and another child on the way, and you got married to a respectful man who honors you and doesn't condemn your past," Anne argued, not wanting Mary to feel bad about herself because Anne personally didn't choose to take her path.

"Yes, I got lucky that William doesn't bring it up, but not all mistresses are so lucky, especially ones that service a man out of favor with Queen Katherine. Yes, he's handsome, but you saw through that, and I'm so proud of you," Mary reached to hug her little sister, truly glad that she made better choices than her.

Anne returned the hug, but all the while wondered if she was brave enough to refuse him a second time.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone, welcome back to King Arthur II! I'm so happy that you all enjoyed the last chapter (it was the longest yet!) and that you all continue to give me amazing feedback. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/alerted the story thus far. In this chapter, there is going to be some more show integration, but not as much as before, as I've extended a scene from season one. A lot of Henry/Anne action this chapter :)

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history, I just mess around with it ;] **Also, be warned, this chapter contains mild sexual content. **I think it's not too much, but if you guys think that I ought to change it to mature, let me know. I don't think so though.

Without further ado, the twenty-second installment of King Arthur II! Don't forget to review!

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_July 30, 1523_

"That's correct Mary," Katherine praised her daughter as the two sat on a bench in the royal gardens. Since Arthur had allowed their daughter Mary to stay at court for the rest of the summer, Katherine vowed to tutor her own daughter while she had the chance. Once Mary returned to Ludlow, it would be back to the same schedule of irregular and seldom visits to Wales, so she intended to make full use of the time they had together.

She couldn't allow Mary to return without doing what she had longed to do for seven years; truly teach her daughter. It wasn't just languages or poetry that she taught her daughter, while she covered that as well; it was more of a focus on the lessons that a monarch truly needed to know before assuming the throne, and Katherine shuddered to think if these topics were overlooked and Mary became Queen without a proper education.

It was also a way for her to forget about the shameful deeds of her sister-in-law and that libertine Charles Brandon. They were gone now, to God knows where, although Katherine could only guess that Henry had given them funds and a place to stay, most likely in Yorkshire. However, for once in her life, she didn't care that Henry was acting in direct opposite to her interests; as long as Mary was out of her sight, she didn't care where the stupid girl stayed as long as she didn't dare come back to court. If Katherine had her way with things, Mary would stay in Yorkshire for the rest of her life, but she knew that it was only a matter of time before Arthur forgave them and invited them back.

Arthur and her got very lucky, Katherine thought. The Emperor, out of his love for Katherine, forgave them with an open heart and wasted no time in finding another bride, Princess Isabella of Portugal. The Emperor vowed that he would protect their daughter's rights once she ascended to the throne if anybody, such as her uncle, tried to threaten her. He took no harsh feelings at the slight that the elder Princess Mary committed, and he commended their sensibility and mercy. Katherine was so relived that this had not soured her relationship with her nephew for various reasons. Nevertheless, her sister-in-law's actions still angered her, no matter how well things had turned out.

Still, being around her daughter cooled her thoughts, and they didn't wander to places that were uncomfortable or painful for Katherine whilst Mary was around.

"Now tell me, mama, please, who I am going to marry!" Mary begged, staring into her mother's eyes with all the innocence of a child who knew that she was beloved by her parents. "You told me that you and papa knew that you were going to get married when you were five and he was three. I'm seven now, and I don't know." That was confusing to Mary in so many ways. Her tutor and governess both told her that all Princesses get married to benefit their country's best interests, not their own love, but that was alright to Mary. She just wanted to see who her prospective husband was and to know when they were going to get married.

Katherine sighed. She knew that her daughter was clever, which was good, but under the present circumstances it put Katherine in an awkward position. She pondered the question for a little while, thinking of the best way to answer it. "Because you are different than me, sweetheart. You are the Princess of Wales, which means, with God's good graces, you will become Queen of England someday, in your own right. We want to make sure we find a match suitable to be the King Consort before proposing one," Katherine explained as gently and as simply as she possibly could.

It was a question, however, that she and Arthur had argued over for quite sometime. While Katherine wanted Mary to rule England in her own right, and believed her capable despite her sex, she knew that England would much rather her have a husband beside her taking equal, if not more, responsibility. So it was important for them to pick a bright, able boy, close to Mary in age as her future husband.

Katherine's first choices were drawn to Spain, and some of Mary's cousins were brought into the picture. However, Arthur wanted to look more into it before picking a definite one, because his last wish was for England to be conjoined in some sort of empire. He wanted England to retain its precious sovereignty, so he wanted a son-in-law who was not the heir to another country's throne; a prince or even just a highborn boy far disconnected from his family's succession. While accidents could happen, Arthur wanted him as far away as possible from becoming heir apparent. This notion made the search far more difficult than if Mary was just an average English Princess, rather than the heiress to the throne.

"I just want to know! I want to get to know them, understand who they are before I have to marry them, and I want to know what country they are going to be from and all that stuff. Come on mama, you have to know!" Mary protested. She didn't believe for a minute that her mama and papa had no clue who she was going to marry. She wanted to see him, to meet him, before having to become his wife, and this was making it so difficult! She knew that most girls got married around twelve, so that only gave her about five years.

Katherine laughed. Her daughter was romantic, just like her. "I understand sweetheart, but patience is key in this matter. Remember what I said about that."

"Yes mama," Mary sulked for a moment before putting on another bright face at the sight of a figure ahead in the garden. "Look mama, its grandmamma!" Mary announced, running, quite clumsily, towards her grandmother, whom she so rarely saw but enjoyed being around in any case. She didn't know if anybody, not even her mama, could be so kind as her grandmamma was.

"Oh, hello your highness," Elizabeth of York greeted her granddaughter with a shallow curtsy before holding out her arms for an embrace. She couldn't bend down like she used to, since she was beyond the age of fifty now, but she still was able to hug her granddaughter without too much pain to her knees. "How are you today?" she asked, admiring what she thought at one time would be her only grandchild. She truly carried the better traits of both of her parents; traits that Elizabeth thought the two of them should use more.

"I'm well, grandmother, thank you for asking. How are you?" Mary politely inquired, showing diplomacy and charm at her young and precious age.

"I'm well too, darling, but I do have a favor to ask, if it's okay with her majesty," Elizabeth turned to face Katherine, who had caught up with her daughter by this point, and at her nod, she continued, "could you go and play with your governess for a while I talk to the Queen alone?" she asked, and Mary nodded and scurried off to find Lady Salisbury amongst the gardens at Whitehall.

"I trust your trip to Richmond was enjoyable," Katherine began, hoping to make pleasant conversation. Elizabeth was a good friend to her when she first arrived to England, the only member of Arthur's family to be kind to her, and she was the only one who went out of her way to make her feel welcome. However, since Katherine began to become suspicious of Henry, her relationship with her mother-in-law was strained, although still cordial. But she was confused as to why Elizabeth would seek her out randomly.

"It was, your majesty, it's nice to get away from court sometimes. I advise you to do it sometime," Elizabeth responded, smiling at Katherine. While she found her to be tiresome at times, she was still fond of Katherine and still saw that young and innocent scared girl from Spain who came over all those years ago and married into her family; before she began to distrust Henry. She only wished her the best, and since Elizabeth had gotten older her trips to Richmond, her personal favorite palace, had become more frequent, and she believed that they had improved her health. She wanted Katherine to take a break from London, as she believed her dark moods could be cured somewhat.

"It is something I have been meaning to do, but sometimes I just am so busy. Now that Mary is here, I have no excuse either. But I do enjoy traveling to Wales when I can, brings back old memories," Katherine replied, smiling wistfully at simpler times. While her life as Princess of Wales was anything but ideal, she still enjoyed the times when she confidently expected a son, a future King of England to be borne of her and to be uncontested, as they were. Now she had to content herself with half measures.

Elizabeth smiled before asking her initial question. "I have a favor to ask of your majesty, if I may?" Elizabeth began, waiting for Katherine to nod. "While I was traveling to Richmond, I thought about stopping at Eltham to see my grandson. However, I forget to receive your permission, so when I return there in a month, may I see Lord FitzYork?" she asked, bracing herself for a sharp reply.

She had only seen Hal a few times since he was born, and she wanted to play a role in his life if she could, because God knew that the boy was in a precarious position and would need all the love he could get. She remembered her own childhood, when she was branded a bastard by her uncle after her father's death, and how distasteful it sounded when she first heard the word, _bastard._ Elizabeth knew, even then, that it was an abuse of power that lead her uncle to do that, and she knew that she was born in lawful wedlock, but it still made her feel less important. So she couldn't imagine what it was like to actually be one, and she wanted the little boy to know that he was loved, no matter what the circumstances of his birth were.

A few times she had gone with Henry, mostly when Hal was an infant, and she hadn't seen her grandson in about a year, and she missed him and wanted to see how he had grown. She knew that her son and daughter were out of favor with the Queen at the moment, however, and she wanted to tread carefully. She enjoyed a great deal of privilege and she didn't want to see it slip away over something that trivial. Even if it hurt, she would accept the Queen's no if that was truly her answer, but she vowed that she would no longer enjoy a cordial relationship with her daughter-in-law if she showed herself to be that heartless.

She understood Arthur and Katherine's decision to banish her own daughter Mary, and she accepted, and encouraged it. She was glad that Henry had provided them an estate in Yorkshire, but she still condemned her foolish daughter's behavior. She just simply wanted to see her grandson, and knew that it was a reasonable request, even if the Queen at times was not.

"You may see Lord FitzYork whenever it pleases you, Elizabeth. Arthur and I have no right to keep you, or his grace, from him," Katherine replied, heartfelt. She knew it would have been easier if Bessie would have given her son away after he was born, but what was done was done and the boy was innocent and deserved to have a loving family. Besides, it ended up doing no harm to her daughter's position, as she thought it would, and from what she heard, the boy was intelligent and humble, and received little visitors. Katherine thought it would do him good to see his grandmother, who was loving to everyone she met.

"I'm very happy to hear you say that, Katherine, very happy," Elizabeth replied, her joy plain. She thought for sure that she was going to have to do some convincing in order for Elizabeth to see it from her point of view, and she was pleasantly surprised to see otherwise.

"Mother!" a male voice cried from the gardens, and Elizabeth and Katherine both sharply turned around to see Henry running, ungracefully, towards them both, finally reaching them. "I'm so happy I found you, I ran out here as soon as I heard you had come back" he breathed.

"What is it Harry?" Elizabeth asked, concerned. It was rare Henry ever looked this flustered, and she could imagine what had happened since she had been gone. He always managed to get himself in some kind of trouble when she left.

"Your majesty," Henry first nodded his head to Katherine, but his tone was a bit sarcastic and disrespectful. "May I please speak to the Queen Dowager for a moment?" he asked, this time with a bit more respect, even though his contempt for the Queen was plain. He had never forgiven her for her schemes to get him into the church.

"Of course, your grace, your majesty, I was just leaving," Katherine said, resisting the urge to glare at Henry before turning around and leaving, hoping to find her daughter once again.

"Harry, what is wrong?!" Elizabeth exclaimed, sitting them down on the closest bench and rubbing his back in circles affectionately.

Henry took a moment to catch his breath before answering. "Anne Boleyn is my problem mother, and I haven't a clue who else to talk to about it. Arthur and Katherine wouldn't understand, Brandon is gone and none of my other friends are close enough for me to trust," Henry began. He trusted his mother to give him the best advice possible regarding matters of the opposite sex. And this Anne Boleyn, a girl he had known for a quite a while, or at least been aware of, was truly an enigma, a puzzle just waiting to be solved.

When George Boleyn came back from school and to court to serve in Arthur's household, Henry quickly welcomed him into his group of friends and became very fond of George, even if he was a bit younger than him. He was aware that Anne was his sister, the little girl who he remembered Arthur rescuing all those years ago, but he didn't want to seem hung up or strange by asking about her; and that was around the time he first had met Bessie anyway, who he was temporarily besotted with. Any thoughts of Anne had been pushed out of his head, until she came back.

She was only fourteen, but looking back at it, he could see her endearing traits even then at that age, even if he was a bit blind at the time. He cursed himself for how foolish he was to overlook her for nearly two years! He had always allowed George to bring her along when they went riding, since for a woman, she was a great horseman, so she didn't impede their progresses, but in hindsight, he realized how little attention he did pay to her and how much attention she paid to him. She was always smiling at him, trying to charm him with jokes and wit, and at times, he was spellbound by her, but it was simply amusing and he would have never looked at her romantically, it would have felt sickening.

The masque woke him up, a little late. She was sixteen now, almost seventeen, and she was at the cusp of her youthfully beauty, a perfect age and figure for him. When he recognized her beauty and singled her out to dance with him, it slowly dawned on him how captivating she truly was, not just her looks either. Unlike some of the other women at court, Anne was enjoyable to talk to and she had opinions and thoughts just like his friends. She spoke perfect French, knew Latin, and had a great interest in theology. He didn't know any other woman at court who was quite as intelligent, fiery, and well, just as entertaining as her. He had to have her.

"Who is Anne Boleyn, Harry?" Elizabeth asked, truly unaware. She had assumed Anne Boleyn was a lady-in-waiting to Katherine, but there was so many of them, so like Bessie Blount, Elizabeth doubted that she could pick the girl out of a crowd. She was not there the day that Arthur rescued Anne from drowning, so she was completely ignorant at the sound of the name.

"The most perfect woman I have ever met," Henry wistfully replied, his voice sounded a bit dreamy.

"No, Harry, who IS she?" Elizabeth asked again, hoping that Henry would understand what she met, although his answer both worried and pleased her. She was glad that Henry was interested in girls, and she could only hope that someday he would get married, since he had always been a romantic and passionate child; however, she was a bit worried about his infatuation that seemed very severe, more so for whoever Anne Boleyn than her own son. She knew how Henry used girls, discarded them once he got tired of them, usually after one night, and this made Elizabeth upset. She just wished that he could stick with one girl and develop a relationship with her that would someday blossom into marriage and so she could have more LEGITMATE grandchildren. While Hal FitzYork was a sweet boy and a pleasing child, Elizabeth felt that it would be a waste for all of Henry's monies and properties to just go directly to the crown, and she was sure he felt the same way.

"Oh, right, sorry, you don't know who she is. Her name is Anne Boleyn, and her brother, George, is a good friend of mine. Her father, Sir Thomas Boleyn, was an ambassador for father in the Netherlands and later he went for Arthur in France. He also serves on the Privy Council. On her mother's side, her uncle is the Duke of Norfolk," Henry explained, rattling off what little information he truly knew about her. He wanted to get to know her so much better!

"She comes from good people then. What is so special about her?" Elizabeth asked. She had never heard Henry sound so passionate about one single person, especially a woman. She just hoped this one would last.

"Oh mother, she is everything that is special in the world. She is witty, intelligent, passionate, and very beautiful. She has dark hair, the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, and she carries herself so well. She is so much different from any girl I have ever met," Henry explained.

"Well, what is the problem then?" Elizabeth asked once again, truly confused. Henry sounded like he was absolutely obsessed with the girl, and from the sounds of how much he loved about her personality and looks, she had no scruples about talking to him as well. Elizabeth said a silent prayer that Henry would actually stick with this one and make her his wife.

"She won't become my mistress. She claimed that her virtue was too important to discard like that, and she also explained that her sister received some harsh treatment in France for being Francis' mistress," Henry answered, paraphrasing the words that Anne used to reject him. He had dwelt on it ever since, especially because Anne had not come back to court. She had stayed at Hever, and stopped replying to his letters, pleading for her to reconsider. He was about to resort to using George as his messenger, which would no doubt anger the young man, but then when he heard his mother had returned he decided to ask her opinion. "What do you think I should do?"

Elizabeth pondered it for a few moments, unsure of how far she could push Henry. He was clearly in love with the girl, but she wasn't sure if he had actually considered marriage. She decided to go for it, no matter his reaction. "Make her your wife, Harry. You clearly enjoy her company, and you are twenty now. It's high time you picked a bride," Elizabeth advised. She believed with all of her heart that Henry would be more content as a husband once he got older instead of a court womanizer, which he was at the current time.

"You think she'd accept?" Henry asked, warming up to the idea. He had never been faithful to one woman before, but with Anne, he could easily picture himself being by her side. He wouldn't want anybody else to be the mother of his children but her.

"I have no doubt she will and her family as well. She sounds very fond of you, but she is just a virtuous girl who is cautious. Even if she does not love you, Harry, which I am sure she does, but in any case, you are the richest noble in England. No girl in her right mind would refuse to be your wife," Elizabeth responded. If this Anne Boleyn was sensible, and from what Elizabeth heard she sounded that way, she wouldn't refuse such a handsome and rich man such as her Harry. "Where is she now?"

"At Hever Castle, her family's home. I should go to her!" Henry exclaimed. "Thank you mother!" Henry kissed Elizabeth on the check before rushing off, barking an order at one of his grooms to saddle his horse on the way before rushing off, and not even taking a look back. Elizabeth could tell that he was very excited to go to this Anne Boleyn.

She slowly allowed her lip to curve before stopping herself. What would the Queen think of all this?

* * *

**Hever Castle**

Henry burst through the doors, like he did a month earlier, with a look of determination about his face. This time, armed with the advice of his mother, he knew that he would not fail.

Anne had cited her virtue as the reason why she would not become his mistress; pleading that her maidenhead belonged to her husband and nobody else. Well, if Henry was to become her husband, than she would have no more scruples, and he would be able to possibly consummate his love affair with her today, and marry her at a later date, with the permission of Arthur of course.

"Your grace, we were not expecting you," Sir Thomas Boleyn greeted him as soon as he walked in, a small smirk encompassing his face. He was aware of how much Henry wanted his daughter, but he planned to use it to his advantage rather than her disgrace. He was always fond of Anne, more so than his other daughter Mary and he did not want to see her disgraced and unable to find a husband. He believed, because the Duke of York was single, that there was a slight possibility that the two of them could get married.

All that was standing in the way was the Queen's hatred of the Duke.

"I'm sorry to barge in like this Sir Thomas; I just had to see Anne. Where is she?" Henry asked, still trying to catch his breath from the hard ride over here. Like he had in the past, he rushed it, not being able to wait more than he had to for this girl. He had never experience these feelings before, he was sure it was love.

"She is up in her rooms, your grace," Boleyn replied, hiding his other smirk. He was sure that Anne was in the middle of dressing herself for the day, since it was still rather early, but he knew that the Duke wouldn't mind it, in fact, it would probably inflame his passions more. "Feel free to go up and see her," Boleyn added on, pointing to the direction of Anne's rooms and vowing that she would not be angry at him later on for leading the Duke to possibly see her naked.

Henry nodded quickly before running up the stairs and opening the doors to her room, where he saw her maids tying her bodice, and she was only wearing her petticoats. "My lady, you have a visitor," one of them announced, barely able to contain her giggles at the site of Henry's wide eyes taking it all in.

"Oh my god! Your grace, I...." Anne stuttered, feeling embarrassed and surprised. She was barely able to drop down into a curtsy as Henry walked slowly over to her, his eyes dark with lust and desire.

"Ladies, you may leave us," Henry commanded in a soft voice, although it was clearly tense. He waited until they all left before he spoke again; pulling Anne out of her curtsy so she could face him. He had to force himself from keeping his eyes from looking down; where he could tell that the bodice was not done being tied, since her breasts were threatening to spill out. "I had to come see you," he began, his voice quivering with desire.

"Really?" Anne asked, lifting one eyebrow up in mock surprise, her tone a bit sarcastic. "I thought I had already given you my answer, your grace. Must you come barging into my room while I am nearly undressed in order to make your point?" Anne rhetorically questioned, her voice frustrated. She really didn't want him to ever see her in such a state, where she was vulnerable and just as ready to be with him as he was with her. She had to be a bit sharp in order to keep herself from giving in, she had to stay strong.

"I'm sorry, it's just, you look beautiful, don't be embarrassed sweetheart," Henry felt the need to reassure her. He had never seen such a sight in his life. "In any case, I want you to come back to court," he stated, cursing the words as they came out of his mouth. He wanted to propose marriage first before making demands, but he was so nervous that he lost what he had planned on saying and began to speak on impulse.

"Your grace, you are not my King, and certainly not my Queen. Her majesty gave me leave to be of aid and comfort to my sister while she was confined here for her pregnancy. I see no reason to return," Anne slightly teased, although her voice stayed strong. She knew it was just an excuse for her to come to Hever to oversee her sister's pregnancy, she knew that her father would have sent her there regardless of Mary's condition, in order to inflame and test Henry's desires. She had no objections to leaving and making him wait, she just wished that she could make her own decision in such a matter as important as this one.

"Oh Anne! I love you, can't you see that? I'd do anything for you! I want you...." he was cut off.

"You want me, yes I know that your grace, but I have told you many times..." she too was cut off by Henry's forceful kiss, and his hands began to slide under her loosely tied bodice. Anne had to push him away, but it was so damned difficult. "No, Henry, I can't!"

"Anne, marry me," he proposed, his voice barely above a whisper.

For what seemed like hours to Henry, Anne finally answered him. "Yes, I will marry you." As soon as she said the words, a strange feeling washed over her. She wanted him badly, and she was willing to take him now, now that she had his promise. While people had warned her about taking promises from men such as Henry, her sister mainly, she had dreamed about being his wife for so long, she thought possibly as far back as that faithful day in the garden when Arthur saved her. Now that it was said, she felt relief, joy, and mostly desire.

Henry wasted no time pulling her into a hug, a tight one that nearly constricted her. "You have no idea how happy we are going to be," Henry promised, rubbing his hands through her hair before pulling her face towards his and pulled her in for another kiss. Now that it was official, they were engaged; he planned to make love to her, consequences be damned! And from the way she looked at him, he knew that she felt the same exact way.

"I can't wait," Anne whispered in-between kisses, and that was all the invitation Henry needed to pick her up and toss her on the bed, rather forcefully, before climbing on top of her. He began to place kisses all over, paying special attention to her breasts which had haunted him just moments before.

After what seemed like too long, Henry pulled her legs on either side of his shoulders and moved to take her, while both of them were still partly clothed. Her hair was a mess, the clip that was holding it half back was becoming looser, but her eyes were deep with desire and longing. He could have easily taken her then and there, but something inside of his head stopped him, made him rethink this.

She wanted to stay pure until marriage, and while Henry now had every intention of marrying her, they would face many obstacles along the way. Katherine still wanted him in the church, and while Arthur was content to allow him to stay single for the time being, he was sure that his brother would want him to enter into an advantageous marriage, since Mary had forsaken hers. He would push for marriage, but he wasn't sure if it would succeed. He didn't want to ruin her.

"No," he began, and Anne, who was waiting in anticipation, opened her eyes wide in shock and surprise. Before she could protest, Henry continued: "I shall honor your maidenhead, until we are married." He had ever intention of taking it, but he wanted it to be safe, while it was still new and risky. "What else could I do for love?" he asked rhetorically. He kissed her hand, which was still limp with that longing. He kissed each individual finger, admiring the soft skin.

Anne was impressed with his resignation; she knew how badly he wanted this. "Oh, my love. With day poof you shall find me to be both loving and kind," Anne breathed, her nose touching his'. He seemed content with this statement; because he took her lips into one last kiss before walking away, he didn't want things to get too heated and then he would certainly lose his resolve.

Anne was still sitting up, her breath heavy, when her father and sister walked in. "Anne, you didn't..." Mary began, her voice sounding very disappointed.

"No, we didn't. He made me a promise though," Anne began, sitting up and turning so Mary could begin to tie her bodice. She didn't want her giggly maids to come in, not just yet.

"What promise?" Boleyn asked, his voice sharp and anxious. He wanted to know what Henry intended to do with his daughter. He was also secretly glad that they had not fornicated, even though it wouldn't have been the worst thing in the world, it was a relief to know his child had more dignity than that.

"That we would get married, father. And I believe every word."

_Done! Okay, so I hope that nobody thinks I rushed the Anne/Henry relationship, because they did know each other longer in my story than in the show, so I thought this was okay. Hope it was too racy either, I didn't want to describe too much but I felt like it would miss its meaning if I just made them start kissing and then stop. So yeah, that's it for this chapter, next chapter will be longer and include some stuff that also happened in the show, and it would include probably most of the characters. Until then, please review ;]_


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Author's Note: **Welcome back everyone! Thanks for all the reviews last chapters, and to anybody who has favorited or alerted since then as well. You are a continuing source of support for me. Last chapter, well, last chapter Henry and Anne got engaged. Miss that? You might want to read a last chapter ;] Anyway, this chapter again will bare some resemblance to season one, but I've had to change things for the purposes of this story. This leads me to....

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history, I just mess around with it ;]

Huge thanks to ReganX, who keeps helping me with brainstorming. She's awesome :)

Without further ado, chapter twenty-three! Enjoy and review please :) (Oh, by the way I have enabled Anonymous reviews, I didn't know I had it disabled, sorry to everyone without an account!)

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_August 27, 1523_

In Henry's mind, the torment had gone on long enough. Arthur had to hear it from him, and he needed his blessing, both as a King, and as his older brother.

It was just when he began to walk towards Arthur's apartments that his initial nervousness melted away. He knew that his brother only wanted him to be happy, and given the circumstances, Henry almost thought Arthur needed him to marry.

Their father's dynasty was still a new one, and Arthur and Katherine's only child was a sickly young girl. While Henry only wished his niece the best, and would never ill-wish her or harm her; she was the only thing that stood between him and the throne of England and she was a pretty flimsily wall. Not only was she a miracle child, borne of a sickly father and a woman who had trouble birthing, but she had gotten sick once and she was premature.

Henry didn't know his father nearly as well as Arthur did, considering that while he was growing up he was nothing compared to the eldest Tudor boy who was fawned over by both grandmother and father. The one thing he did know about his father though was that he was proud of the dynasty he set up, and he would be gravely disappointed to see that his heir, the favored prince whom everybody thought was grand, produced a single living daughter only and allowed every decision he made to be guided by his foreign-born wife-except those regarding himself or his family.

So he walked with certain lightness in his step, content with the knowledge that Arthur would think in terms of England and his family opposed to Katherine's obsession with hating Henry and believing him to be an usurper waiting to snatch her daughter's crown from underneath her. He knew that Arthur wanted, above all things, even above making his beloved wife happy, was to continue this dynasty. Henry believed, after this private conversation with his brother, that he would leave with his blessing and he would be able to marry Anne in no less than a month.

"His majesty will receive you now, your grace," one of Arthur's grooms told him, and Henry followed him with a smug smirk on his face into Arthur's private chamber.

The smirk was promptly wiped off of his face when he saw Katherine of Aragon standing next to his brother. Both of their backs were turned to him as they read over some sort of document. Katherine's arm was lightly touching Arthur's and his hand was snaked around her waist. It amazed not only Henry, but everyone at court, how much Arthur loved Katherine, despite her outspoken nature. "Your majesties," Henry pointedly made his presence known, and made a shallow bow towards both of them.

He was sorely disappointed to see that his sister-in-law was there. Not only was she more likely to be opposed to him marrying than Arthur would be, considering her own agenda, she also hated him and he really didn't want to be around her. A frown slowly took over his face, his mood darkened.

"Brother! How are you?" Arthur jovially greeted him with a hug and slapped his shoulder in a friendly sort of way. "Would you like some wine?" he asked, completely unaware of the mounting tension between his wife and brother, even though as he spoke, Katherine's eyes were burning into the back of Henry's head and Henry rarely made eye-contact with her, instead focusing his energy on Arthur.

Henry accepted the goblet of wine from Arthur, and took long swig before speaking. "Thank you, your majesty, for receiving me on such short notice," Henry began, and with Arthur's casual nod, he continued. "I would like your blessing to take a wife," he announced, and he saw Katherine perk up, but he wasn't sure if it was in anger or excitement. "I thought that it may be agreeable to your majesty, since I am now twenty."

"Who were you thinking of?" Arthur asked. He hadn't even really considered the idea of Henry marrying, although he wasn't opposed to it. He was aware that the people would like to see the Duke of York take a wife to show that not only was the royal family unified, but that when he died there would be an alternative just in case something terrible ever happened to his daughter Mary.

"Mistress Anne Boleyn," Henry answered, unable to keep his smile contained at the mention of her name. She was back at court now, but Henry had kept it quiet, per her requests. He hoped she wouldn't get angry at him for being so quick to ask, or asking without consulting her first. "I have promised her marriage, and she has agreed," Henry elaborated, wanting to make it clear that Anne would be the only bride he would accept.

"Oh, Mistress Anne, great choice, Henry. I trust she is much quicker on her feet now?" Arthur jested, his eyes aflame with mirth. He had always been fond of the Boleyn family as a whole, and he thought that Anne would be a fine match for Henry.

"Arthur," Katherine chided before Henry could answer. She continued after Arthur looked at her, completely ignoring Henry's presence, as he had did to her. "I should think one of my nieces would be a more suitable choice, considering your sister's foolish actions that threatened our alliance with the Emperor. I imagine that his grace's wife would be better coming from my family," Katherine suggested. She was not about to let this opportunity slip through her fingers to unite Spain and England, even if it meant Henry marring, something she wished to avoid. If he was going to marry, she wanted it to be someone she could trust.

"Katherine, not now, please," Arthur groaned, but he was interrupted by his brother's answer.

"Forgive me, madam, but I will not marry out of your family, not when your majesty's only child is but a daughter. It would be, well, a bit risky, don't you think?" Henry protested with a bit of sarcasm. How dare Katherine criticize his love's birth?! She may have not been as noble as Katherine's family, but Henry loved her and that was enough to him. He refused to listen to the consul of a woman who had torn his family apart, and who he neither liked nor respected.

"You dare to question my family's fertility, your grace?!" Katherine shouted her tone accusatory. She did not want to say it in Arthur's presence, but nearly all of her physicians had told her that it was his fault, not her own, that many of their children were born dead or that she miscarried. Henry was foolishly mistaken to insult her in such a way; and even if it was the truth, he absolutely no right to insult her, the Queen of England! It was insufferable arrogance.

"Yes I do, your majesty, because you dare to question Mistress Anne's birth! I think you forget to whom you speak and how powerful I am," Henry threatened.

"I forget to whom I speak? I am the Queen of England; you are a mere Duke, your grace. Your father didn't even trust you enough to marry! He was so fearful that god forbid something happened to Arthur, and for what reason? Because you are a blind fool, guided by your passions rather than your mind, and you allow such an ambitious girl to control you!" Katherine accused, her voice rising and her face red. She had never been angrier in her life.

"Henry! Katherine! Stop it right now. I am sick of listening to it!" Arthur commanded. He did not want to become a spectator to another one of Henry and Katherine's disagreements. "Henry, I will think about it, and give you your answer shortly. For the time being, give no public announcement of your engagement," Arthur ordered, and with a sweep of his hand, dismissed Henry.

"Why would you even consider agreeing to his wants?! He dared to insult us, and our daughter!" Katherine protested as soon as Henry was gone. She couldn't believe that her husband would even think to indulge Henry and his little slut, allowing them to marry. First Mary, and now this! It was apparent that Arthur's siblings did not think highly of her, or her family.

"Perhaps he wouldn't have had the opportunity to insult us had you not interrupted me. That was unnecessary, and you know that," Arthur scolded. She had been very good about allowing him to play his role as King without interruption recently, and he was disappointed to see that she had returned to her old ways, daring to advise him about his own family. He was upset that Henry insulted her, yes, but in some ways he understood Henry's frustration.

"Forgive me, it's just, it would be foolish to allow Henry to marry whom he pleased. It needs to be someone we can trust, who will be sure to advocate Imperial interests, not some random girl!" Katherine argued, her tone fierce. She couldn't believe that Arthur was going to just give away his blessing when Henry's marriage was of such great importance. She was fond of Anne Boleyn, sure, but she could see right though Henry's apparent love of her and she knew that Anne was ambitious and that her answer was not motivated out of her love for Henry alone. Besides, Anne had spent a great deal of her youth in the French court; not doubt she would favor France over Spain and her family's Empire.

"Oh, Anne Boleyn is as harmless as they come. She is innocent, pure, and comes from a good family. I see no harm in Henry marrying her. Besides, I know my brother better than you do, he will not accept any other bride but her. He is very stubborn, always has been," Arthur explained. He knew that if Henry wanted to marry Anne, he would, and it would be better if Arthur blessed the union instead of opposed it. A show of unity was always important, and with his sister banished the royal family appeared to be on the edge of the abyss, waiting to crumble and fall in. He had to avoid it.

"Arthur, she is not the innocent girl she was when you rescued her from the pond all those years ago; people grow up. She is just as ambitious as any man I know, I can tell, I can see it in her eyes. You are naïve if you believe she simply loves Henry and wants to make an honest marriage out of it. She wants power, Arthur," Katherine reasoned. She knew that Arthur was fond of the girl, who in essence proved his manhood when he was still the Prince of Wales, but Katherine knew better than that. If Henry married, it HAD to be somebody she trusted.

"You've said enough. Leave me; I fear I've grown a headache," Arthur commanded, turning his back to her and putting his hand on his head in faux pain. He didn't want to listen to her complaints anymore; he needed to make up his own mind.

"Arthur," Katherine protested.

"Just go," he commanded again, this time with a certain edge to his voice.

Katherine shuffled quietly out of the room, curtsying once more to her husband's back, holding in her tears. She was a Queen, and she would not cry in public. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction of knowing that he hurt her.

When she entered her rooms, all of her ladies curtsied deeply, as if they could sense her bad mood. She noticed Anne Boleyn right away, and she singled her out. "Mistress Anne, wash my feet," she commanded sharply. If she couldn't take it out on Henry, Anne would do. She was, in Katherine's mind, just as guilty.

"Of course, madam," Anne responded, and knelt down at Katherine's feet and began to wash them, applying calm ministrations to them. She could sense her mistress was angry, and she had no idea that it was at her. Besides, she wasn't too insulted by the humble task; she was too busy thinking about Henry and her upcoming marriage. It was something that thrilled her to no end.

She had no idea that a man as powerful as Henry could love somebody as low-born as her. She was, after all, from humble origins compared to royalty, and most of her connections were on her mother's side. Her great-grandfather Boleyn was a merchant and the family, in a sense, had to pull themselves up from nothing. It was refreshing to see somebody as rich and as well-connected as Henry was courting her and ignoring her somewhat ignoble status because he loved her and felt affection towards her. He never even mentioned it and always showered her with gifts. It seemed like everyday Anne received something new from her future husband, and she was currently wearing his latest, and most beautiful, gift yet, around her neck.

Katherine pushed her feet out of the basin, nearly kicking Anne in the process. Anne grabbed a towel and began to dry them off, her thoughts no longer drifting towards Henry. She could tell that the Queen was unhappy with her in some way, because she usually treated her more favorably than this, even in her most sour of moods. She sensed that it had something to do with Henry and their engagement, but she didn't dare mention it, she just continued to dry her feet like nothing was amiss.

"That necklace," Katherine stated, staring pointedly at the expensive piece of jewelry hanging around Anne's neck. No other lady of hers was able to afford such a thing, and usually Anne herself wore modest pieces. She could tell that it was a gift, and she had a feeling whose it was. "Who gave it to you?" she asked anyway, wanting to humiliate the girl in front of all of the other ladies, the girl who dared to upset the balance between Arthur and her.

Anne shied away from her question, staring at Katherine's feet, not wanting to make eye-contact. She could tell that it made the Queen angry that Henry wanted to marry her (which she was now sure Katherine knew about) and she wanted to avoid the question, hoping that she would drop it. "Answer me!" Katherine commanded to Anne's great dismay, her hopes of ignoring it and slipping away quietly forgotten.

"His grace, the Duke of York," she finally answered, daring to make eye-contact. She had heard many stories from George about how badly the Queen despised Henry and that she wanted him in the church. She had even witnessed it herself one time, when the King, Queen, and Dowager Queen ate dinner together. The Queen wanted Henry's bastard son to be unacknowledged and to use Bessie Blount's uneasy marriage prospects as a tool for Henry to get into the church. While Anne admired and respected Queen Katherine, she thought that was a very cruel thing to do to your own family, and now she feared that the Queen would be equally as cruel to her.

Katherine took the necklace in her hands and examined it closely. Henry spent quite a bit of money on this whore, she thought inwardly. "It's expensive," she said out loud, and she saw Anne smile, as if this was a compliment and that Katherine was pleased at the fact that her brother-in-law possibly held more wealth than the crown.

"An expensive whore!" she exclaimed next, but took care to say it Castilian, knowing that the odds of anybody, save for Maria, recognizing the language in the room were slim to none. However, she saw that Anne's lip quivered slightly, as if she was going to cry, and Katherine figured that she was smart enough to understand it, which just made her more dangerous in Katherine's head. She was satisfied that she seemed to have driven her point home with Anne, and that there was a hope that she would give up this course of action and go back home to Hever, where Katherine would see to it that her father made her a far more suitable marriage.

"I am no whore, your majesty," Anne protested, her voice finding a new strength. The Queen's words had hurt her, and for a moment she wished that she did not understand Castilian. However, she couldn't allow the Queen to bully her into forsaking her engagement. She loved Henry with all of her heart, and she would never let him slip away, no matter what insults the Queen was able to spit at her.

Katherine had enough of a sense of humor to giggle, and she inwardly admired Anne's bravery. Most of her ladies would cower away and apologize, but Anne had the courage to speak up and defend herself. If it wasn't so dangerous, Katherine would compliment her for it. However, she was a threat to her daughter's throne, and she had to be subdued. "He is infatuated with you for the moment, as men often are with new things. Soon he will see you for what you really are, and he will tire of you, like all the others," Katherine warned. Henry was known around court for being a womanizer, and she had to believe that Anne was just another one of his whores.

She noticed that Anne's blue eyes were downcast, but not teary, so she felt the need to continue, to break her resolve completely. "Soon his grace will see that I am right, and that you are a commoner unfit to be the Duchess of York. He will regret it if he ever does marry you, and I will do everything to obtain him a divorce and see that one of my ROYAL nieces marries him," Katherine threatened, ignoring the fact that this was unlikely. If Anne backed out of this, Henry would have no choice, and the prospect of sticking Henry with one of her nieces looked more appealing to her as the days went on.

"And what if he does not?" Anne dared to ask, not even bothering to tack on the honorific. She was secure in the knowledge of the love Henry bore for her, so she knew the Queen's words were futile and unfounded; a product of her own displeasure at the whole thing. She wanted to prove to her that she was not going to give up, even if she heaped all the insults in the world at her.

Henry loved her, and that was all the comfort she needed.

"I did not give you permission to speak!" Katherine shouted, her shock and discomfort at the truth plain. All the other ladies in the room cowered away, pretending to be preoccupied by some other task. "You are a servant," Katherine reminded her. "Go now!" she dismissed, her eyes aflame with irritation and resigned shock.

Nobody had ever dared to question her like that, well, besides Henry, and that is what made them dangerous together. They had no fear of her, and that was the scariest thing in the world to Katherine.

* * *

Once Anne had gotten out of the Queen's apartments, after curtsying as gracefully as she could and avoiding the eye-contact of all the other ladies; she had to go see her brother, the only person who truly understood her.

Luckily, George was in the family apartments, alone, and appeared to be sleeping. Anne quietly closed the door and snuck over to him, tapping him on the arm. "Something awful just happened," Anne began, tears now rimming her eyes. She was able to hold them in out of rage for the Queen, but now that she was here, with the person who understood her so well, she felt the floodgates open.

"What is it, sister? What happened?" George asked, guiding her into a hug. She rarely looked distraught like this so it worried George to no ends. His sister was usually so much stronger than this. He had a feeling it had to do with Henry. "Did his grace break off the engagement?" he asked when Anne did not answer.

"No, of course not. It's just... the Queen hates me George. She thinks I'm a whore, and that I'm not worthy to be the Duchess of York! She said so to me today, whilst I was washing her feet. She believes Henry is temporarily besotted with me, and that he will tire of me soon, and regret marrying me," Anne broke down after saying the last clause. She didn't want to believe the Queen's words, and while she was able to stick up for herself while it was happening, she needed to let herself go for a moment in order to gain her resolve back.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," George replied once she had calmed down a bit, knowing what he had to do.

Anne sighed and nodded, and lay down on the bed, closing her eyes and imaging happier times. The Queen was always fond of her over her sister and some of the other younger ladies in her household and Anne had relished her position. But ever since she had met him upon her return from France, Henry had captured her attention. She had always tried so hard to impress him when she went riding with George. She never allowed herself to be slower than the general party and always told witty jokes to the Duke. He had noticed her, but never thought twice about her.

Now that she was going to become his wife, she wouldn't give it up for the favor of Queen Katherine, who would be reduced greatly after her husband's death. Her daughter would be Queen, not her, and while she imagined Queen Katherine would influence her daughter, she knew that the Princess of Wales was fond of her uncle, whom she affectionately referred to as "Uncle Harry" and not even the Queen could spoil her favor. As long as Arthur gave them his blessing to marry, Anne wouldn't be scared of the Queen's empty words and insults, because she only had so much power.

She felt herself drift to sleep, forgetting about George's promise and just allowing herself to relax, releasing the tension from her body.

She awoke with a start when she felt soft lips touch her own and pull her into a deep kiss. When she opened her eyes, she saw Henry on top of her, his eyes full of worry after he released her lips. "Sweetheart," he greeted her, rubbing her check. "George told me what that bitch did. Don't worry, she is nothing. I have ever reason to believe Arthur is happy about our engagement," Henry explained, feeling the need to reassure her.

"Henry, please do not worry about me and the Queen. I know you love me, and that you will never tire of me, and I know that I am not a whore," Anne replied.

Henry pulled her into a hug, rubbing her hair, while Anne shot daggers at George. She was sure that he had dramatized the story to worry Henry, to keep him interested, because her whole family feared that this would be fruitless, even if Anne was confident in her Henry. It irritated her that they didn't have enough faith in their love. "You are so brave," Henry complimented, kissing her once again. "But still, I want to make it up to you. Let's go for a ride," he suggested, pulling her up from the bed with a bit of force.

Anne smiled and had one of her maids change her into her riding habit. Within an hour, she was riding behind her fiancé in the woods of England, the two of them moving at a snail's pace because she was behind him. It was comforting to go for a slow ride behind him, and being able to take his smell and the peaceful surroundings at the same time. Her brother, Anthony Knivert, and William Compton were also with them, engaged in lively conversation, which Anne was glad of. She would have felt bad if they were bored at their expense.

"Let's have a picnic at Compton's estate, love," Henry suggested, turning his horse around slowly to face William. "If that is okay with you," he added in afterthought, not wanting to presume himself onto his friend's property, and with a nod, he allowed the horse to pick up more speed towards the clearing.

Henry and Anne were sitting at the front of the whole group, their limbs intertwined with each other. Henry was lovingly feeding Anne fruit and kissing her passionately, glad to be away from the court's prying eyes and spending time with his love. Nothing made him happier.

"I believe our grace is in love," Compton remarked to George and Anthony during a brief interlude of their conversation.

"Indeed, my sister is a very lucky woman," George added, wanting them to believe his family was grateful. While they were cautious of Henry's intentions, knowing him to have waning emotions at times, George had never seen the Boleyns in such a triumph as they were in at the current moment. He just felt bad for Anne, knowing that every action of hers would be scrutinized under their father's harsh glare while she lived at court, and when she became the Duchess if they were given their own household, he would have spies lurking about. George just hoped Anne could live in ignorance.

After everyone in the party had their fill, they all headed back to London so they'd reach it before dark, as they did not want to have to stop somewhere to stay the night, even if they would accept the Duke of York and his friends, it would be impolitic and rude. Henry had a great deal of support amongst the nobles, who would rather see him as King over Mary, but he didn't want to test their limits.

As they all rode into London, there was a poignant smell in the air, and Anne began to cough. "What is that smell?" Anne asked. She covered her nose and was dismayed that the smell was not leaving her nostrils. As they approached the city gates, there was a mass panic, and Anne too began to panic a bit, trying to hide it. "What is going on, Henry?"

"It smells like vinegar," George remarked, his face also sour from the smell.

"Vinegar! It's the sweating sickness!" Henry exclaimed, remembering a time when he was a child that his mother sent him away from London when there was an outbreak, the summer directly after Arthur had beaten his bout of it. He could recall vividly the harsh smell of vinegar as he rode out of the city, and he felt the same fear rise in his chest, but he fought to repress it. "We have to go quickly; it's not safe to stay here," Henry calmly remarked, even as panic rose in his chest.

"Where can we go?" Anthony asked, speaking up for one of the rare times that evening.

"My mother's house at Richmond, she will have enough space and kindness to welcome us," Henry replied. "Hold on tight sweetheart, we have quite a distance to cover before dark," he warned, waiting until he felt Anne squeeze tighter before kicking his horses sides to make him take off, speeding away from London and the disease. "Follow me!" he called behind him, making sure to alert his friends that they were welcome.

Even though it was the second time in a short period that his horse had gone for a distance, the stallion handled it well, and his friends' horses were able to keep up. They stopped for a break once, getting a short meal at an inn, before heading out again. Henry didn't want to risk anything, such as the disease getting to them before they were able to out-run it. He also wanted to keep his friends safe.

Once they arrived at Richmond and Henry had helped a weary Anne off of his horse, handed all of their horses off to a bewildered stable boy, he walked up to the front doors of the grand palace where he had spent some of his youth. His mother spent more time at Richmond than at Whitehall once she had gotten older, and Henry had no idea why. This was where she was abused by Margaret Beaufort and his father, and Henry would have thought that she would have wanted to stay away from the place with such unpleasant memories forever. His mother never ceased to amaze him.

"Perhaps we should have told somebody before we left, Henry," Anne remarked as they walked up the path. While she agreed that staying away from the city was the best option, since disease traveled quickly there, her father had no idea of her whereabouts and was probably worried sick for all of his coldness. As well as that, she was still under the guardianship of Queen Katherine, who may notice her absence after a few days.

Before Henry could answer, they were admitted into the palace where Elizabeth was quick to greet them, having heard her son was here and nothing else, she was taken aback to see Henry, as well as a girl and three other boys about his age standing next to him, their clothes muddy and sweaty from what appeared to be a hard ride. "Harry?" she questioned, moving slowly towards him. "What's going on?"

"Forgive me, mother, for the intrusion. The sweat has broken out in London, so I brought all of my friends here for safe keeping," Henry answered, moving to kiss his mother, whose eyes were wide with shock. He then realized that perhaps Anne had been right, telling somebody would have been smart or at least warning his mother ahead of time, but he wasn't thinking straight. He had a great fear of disease, having been surrounded by it his whole life, and he had no desire for any of his loved ones, or himself, to catch something fatal.

"Harry, I... I do not know what to say," Elizabeth responded, giving herself a few moments for the shock and confusion to go away before addressing the rest of them. "Hello, you are all very welcome here for the duration of the illness," she motioned for her chamberlain, who was standing in the background, "ready five rooms for the Duke of York and his companions," she commanded.

"We only need four, mother," Henry responded, prompting giggles from Knivert, Compton, and George and a nervous blush from Anne.

"Harry, I don't want that sort of thing happening under my roof," Elizabeth chided. "Who is she, anyway?" she asked Henry, pulling him aside.

"That's Anne, mother, my future wife and my future Duchess. I just want to spend time with her, she's pure, and I would never corrupt her, especially under your roof," Henry reassured his mother. He was not even planning on using his mother's reputation as a buffer for him to steal Anne's virginity while under her care, he just wanted to sleep next to her, be near her. He trusted himself, and Anne, enough not to engage in the act.

Elizabeth smiled, pleased with her son's behavior and devotion. "Ready four rooms then," she commanded, smiling at her chamberlain before ushering him off. "All of you need bathes as well. I have no male servants I'm afraid available to wash you, but that will change. For the time being, I hope you may wash yourselves," Elizabeth half-jested, and the three boys nodded and hurried up to wash, extremely grateful to the Dowager Queen for her kindness. Elizabeth then moved over to Anne, sensing her awkwardness. Despite her effort to just question Henry about his intentions with her, Elizabeth was sure that Anne had heard the conversation and was a bit embarrassed.

Henry pulled his mother aside for a moment, noticing that she was about to speak to Anne. "She hasn't had much kindness in the past day from the Queen. She had the nerve to question our love together and to call Anne a whore," Henry admonished to his mother. He was so angry about that, but he didn't want to upset Anne more, who brushed it off. She was so brave to deal with Katherine like that, but still, he wanted her out of Katherine's household as soon as possible, once the sweat calmed down he intended to petition Arthur.

"Poor dear, I'm sure she is scared I will treat her the same way," Elizabeth reasoned. She walked back over to Anne, who was trying desperately to fix herself as well as possible. She was harshly flinging mud off of her riding habit and brushing her hair with her fingers. This was certainly not the way that she wanted to meet her future mother-in-law. "Anne, how in God's name did you get stuck with all of these men for company?" Elizabeth jested lightheartedly.

Anne, however, took it to believe that the Dowager Queen was questioning her virtue, something that she didn't want, knowing the close relationship between Henry and his mother. "No, your majesty, It's not like that, it's just..." she was cut off.

"I know, Anne, I can tell you aren't like the rest of Henry's mistresses, since he is wiling to make you his wife. You are a virtuous girl, Henry has told me many times. I am not like the Queen, I know that you simply love my son and wish to marry him," Elizabeth bluntly stated, smiling kindly at Anne and continuing once she returned her smile. "Does your father know you are here?" she asked after she had stated that she understood that Anne wasn't trying to seduce Henry out of wedlock. She didn't want Anne to think that she was anything like Katherine.

"No, your majesty, we left as soon as we reached London without informing anybody of our whereabouts. Her majesty, Queen Katherine, is also unaware of my departure. I am here with my brother though," she explained. She was so glad that Henry's mother seemed to like her, and even though it appeared questionable, she believed that they were truly waiting until marriage to have sex. It was a great victory for both Anne and Henry to have Elizabeth of York on their side.

"Well, that's good, it will be easy for me to correspond with your father then and inform him of your whereabouts. As for the Queen, do not worry about her, I'm sure she will have her hands full with this illness in London to even notice your absence. For the present, you may use the services of my ladies to wash, and I'm sure one of my older gowns, when I was still youthful, will fit you. If not, some of Princess Margaret and Mary's gowns are still in this place," Elizabeth proposed, pointing Anne in the direction of the washing chambers.

"Thank you mother, you truly are a kind soul," Henry hugged Elizabeth as soon as Anne was gone. If she was like his grandmother or like Katherine, she would have sent him away or judged Anne harshly. She was the most understanding person on earth to Henry.

"I like her; you made a good choice Harry. I should like to dine with you and her later, once everyone is washed and rested," Elizabeth proposed. She wanted to get to know Anne much better so when the time came, she could properly welcome her into the family. She also wanted to show her that there were kind people in the Tudor family besides Henry, and that she was more than willing to support and bless their marriage.

Henry nodded and rushed away to go and wash, smiling all the way up the stairs. With his mother on his side, he felt like this would truly work after all.

_Done! Okay, so I was going to show Arthur and Katherine and their reaction to the sweat, but it felt out of place. I hope you guys liked this! It was awkward for me to write since people were always moving positions, so I hope I did an okay job with that and it didn't seem rushed. Next chapter will include more Anne/Henry, and Katherine and Arthur's plan to deal with the sweat. The review button is magically :) _


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Author's Note: **Welcome back everyone! Thanks for all the response from last chapter, not my personal best, but I'm happy that everyone liked it. This chapter will have more staying in one place instead of constant moving, so it, as a writer, was a lot easier for me to write.

Thanks again to ReganX for always brainstorming with hem. Also, to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/alerted since last time, you are the best!

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history, I just mess around with it ;] **Warning, I'm pretty sure there's something in here that could be considered a Deux Machina (or whatever, something unrealistic for the purposes of the plot). Sorry, had to happen. **

Without further ado, I present the 24th chapter of King Arthur II! Please do not forget to hit that review button at the end :)

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**  
_August 27, 1523_

_The Same Day_

"I wasn't too cruel, was I? I mean, Henry is sly but I know it cannot have been his idea alone," Katherine theorized in the privacy of her own rooms after Anne Boleyn had left. She felt bad for taking all of her anger out on Anne, who was only sixteen years old. She always liked Anne after all, and found no reason to have any sort of problem with her, until she found out about Henry's engagement. She wanted to find any reason to justify her actions at this point, even if she knew she acted unreasonably and impulsively out of anger.

Maria nodded and placed her hand on Katherine's shoulder as a means of support. She understood how badly Katherine wanted to make amends for something as cruel as what she did to Anne Boleyn. Her mistress had lived a tough life, a life that had made her hard. She understood that at times certain things, immoral or not, had to be done to protect her daughter and Maria knew she only acted out of fear for Mary's position. Nothing else would drive her to bully the young lady whom she was once fond of. "Henry should have accepted your gracious offer at a marriage with Spain," Maria replied, knowing that it was wrong for Katherine to take it out on the girl, but not wrong to be angry. Henry, after all, did insult her and her family.

"Yes, but what about Anne? Do you think that she poisons his mind against me or that she's as innocent as Arthur thinks?" Katherine asked, wanting to know Maria's honest opinion. Maria was always a friend to her above everyone else, and she trusted her more than any person, even Arthur. She knew that Arthur would never intentionally act in an interest opposite their daughter's, so if he supported Anne's marriage to Henry it was for reasons that were purely innocent, not anything else. She didn't want to bully an innocent, but at the same time, she wanted to know if the girl was up to something that wasn't just a love match. She wanted to know if Anne wanted Henry for his love, or for his money and position.

"I always found her to be a good girl, much more sensible than most of the other maids her age," Maria responded. She liked both of the Boleyn girls very much; they were respectful and hard-working, never once complaining if they had to attend on Katherine until the late night or if they had to do some ignoble chores. Anne was also a means of intelligent company for her mistress, and she knew that Katherine enjoyed talking to her. She couldn't believe Anne would dare to undermine the Queen whom she served so diligently.

"That's what's so scary about her! She knows what she is doing, Maria, she isn't some dullard girl with good looks. She is intelligent, far more than any of the other girls that Henry takes to bed. In fact, she wouldn't even let him in her bed! Sounds like a strategy in lust to me," Katherine stated. No other woman was quite as bold as Anne appeared to be; most of her ladies-in-waiting would have, or already had, succumbed to Henry's advances. Katherine was shrewd enough to admit her brother-in-law was a persuasive and handsome man, one who could woo most of the girls at the English courts without a second thought or effort. Anne was different, and Katherine wasn't sure if it was a lesson from the lecherous French courts that she spent her youth in, or some other undefined strength that she held.

"Perhaps she has taken a note from her sister, who is called by some the Great Prostitute in France," Maria suggested, believing that it made perfect sense. She didn't want to believe Anne wished to simply tease Henry along for a crazy ride in order for him to marry her. No, she was sure that Henry proposed marriage and that Anne wanted to stay pure. Maria had to believe it, it was the only thing that made sense to her.

"France, that's another problem. I am sure that _Mademoiselle _Anne has some special fondness towards the French court where she grew up. Her sister was very close to King Francis, as you say, and I'm sure that Francis would have tried to do the same exact thing had Anne not been intelligent enough to see that it would cause her harm and the enmity of Queen Claude," Katherine paused for a moment, thoughts racing through her mind. "I am sure that if she ever gets enough influence, she will push for a French alliance, as you well know, France is no friend of my nephew. God forbid she ever becomes Queen…" she was cut off.

"Mary will be Queen, you know that!" Maria protested. She wished that Katherine wouldn't ponder so much the idea of Mary not succeeding her father. She was the Princess of Wales, and as such, before the Duke of York in the line of succession. She knew that with the Emperor on Mary's side as her cousin, her throne would be safe, and she simply wished Katherine could sensibly draw the same conclusion. After all, the Emperor did forgive the English royal family as a whole for allowing the elder Princess Mary to marry Charles Brandon, so Maria was assured that her mistress' daughter would be safe.

"As long as Henry stays single, her chances are good, yes. However, if the Duke and Duchess of York have a few children, some sons, they will look more and more attractive as the next rulers opposed to my young daughter. That is why he must marry Spanish! No Spanish bride would ever dare depose Mary," Katherine explained. If only Arthur would have placed Henry in the church while he had the chance, instead of honoring him with peerages and estates! Now he was a threat because he wished to marry some girl who Katherine didn't know well enough to trust, and if Arthur was honest with himself, Katherine thought that he wouldn't know her enough to trust her either.

Compared to Henry and Anne and any children they may have, Mary looked terrible as Queen after Arthur. Not only was she a female, a near death-sentence for a ruler in England, but she was also not from the healthiest stock. Katherine knew her daughter had never enjoyed quite the same health after her sickness three years before, and she was also premature and naturally inherited Arthur's weak constitution. Besides that, Katherine knew the people would doubt her daughter's ability to produce another heir, as they believed her mother and father to be both impotent, completely ignoring the fact that Katherine's mother had a great deal of children. Henry had the advantage because he was male, handsome, strong, charismatic, and he already had a son so he was clearly fertile.

It was something that weighted deeply down on Katherine's thoughts. She understood his appetite to get married and have a family, one that many men and women alike shared with him. However, he wasn't any old bachelor in England, he was the Duke of York and Somerset and the Earl of Kendal. If he had to get married, it needed to be to suite his country's interests, not his own lust towards a woman who had the nerve to say "no" to him. Katherine didn't want to risk something, even if Anne was harmless, she wanted it to be someone she trusted enough to carry on her interests after her husband passed on and her daughter took the throne. While Anne might not ill-wish her daughter, she knew that Henry wanted a war, Anne wouldn't be opposed to the idea of being Queen, and Katherine didn't know a person who wouldn't in her position.

Maria didn't dare suggest that Henry wouldn't necessarily be influenced by his wife, especially if it was an arranged marriage, not one of love. She didn't know him that well, but she could tell he was a man of immense pride, one who would trust his own instincts opposed to the one of a woman. Nevertheless, she didn't dare mention in, instead taking a different path in an attempt to soothe Katherine. "Perhaps Anne will be infertile. She isn't any more guaranteed to have a nursery full of sons than any other woman in the world," Maria offered.

"Oh that's a fool's wish, and you are no fool. Anne is young, younger than I was when I had Mary, younger a bit than I was even when I married Arthur! Henry is healthy and takes after his mother, who as you recall, had four healthy children and many more born alive. Besides that, Anne is one of three children, and the Howards are a large family, and as you may not know, Mary Carey is expecting her second child already. Besides, I do not wish for Anne to be infertile, I pray that she has many sons, just not with Henry," Katherine shot Maria down swiftly. She felt bad when her friend dropped her head, so she added, "But I do appreciate the condolence, my dearest Maria."

Maria nodded her head and curtsied, sensing that Katherine needed to be left alone; as it was clear she had a lot to think about. She heard a knock at the chamber doors anyway, so she hastened to go and answer them, her gown swooshing the whole way. Katherine picked up some needlework, apparently unaware of the knocking.

"My lady, the King is here," Maria announced, and Arthur followed in tow. She excused herself, giving Katherine an encouraging smile before going to resume her duties.

"Arthur, I was so worried you were angry at me," Katherine impulsively declared, moving to kiss him on the lips. She was dismayed when he pushed her away. However, upon further inspection, his face was pale with fear and he seemed nervous. "Husband, what is it?" she asked, her stomach sinking.

"The sweat has broken loose in London, nearly 100 dead in the past two hours. It is not safe for you to stay here; you need to leave while I stabilize the country. Have your ladies pack your things, I have arranged for you to stay in Wales…" Katherine cut him off.

"No, you need to leave! You wouldn't be lucky again a second time if you catch it, and I don't know what I will do, what England and Mary will do, if they lose you. Go, I will handle things here," Katherine offered, brushing off his attempt to send her away. She would not go through him being sick again like she did at Ludlow when they were newlyweds, when their marriage was so new. 10 years later, she knew that if he stayed here his risk was real, since he had already caught the disease and his body was weakened permanently from it. He couldn't take another hit.

"That would be improper of me, you aren't the King, I am. It is my duty to protect my people and to stabilize the country in times of crisis," Arthur protested. "I don't have time to argue, not again. I want you out of here within the next 6 hours." He felt his temper bubble at his surface; he didn't want to fight with her again today, especially about something like this. He knew how to keep himself safe; he didn't need Katherine to come to his rescue. It wasn't like she was his mother and it wasn't like he was a child anymore. He had inherited a kingdom from his father and he needed to act like that.

"Don't play dumb, husband, you know that if you catch this again you will die. It is better for you to live, live and prosper for your country who loves you so. Our daughter is not ready to rule, and I am not old enough to become a Dowager," Katherine insisted, shoving him the general direction of the door. While it was sweet that he wanted her to leave, and she knew it was right and proper that if anyone should leave it would be her; however, their reign had never been a typical one and it wouldn't be like some other Queen staying in her husband's place, Katherine was well-trained and able.

"What if something goes wrong, how will you handle it? And are you really capable of stabilizing a crisis such as this?" Arthur questioned. He was touched by her desire to keep him safe by the virtue of her love for him, but he knew that this time, he needed to stay in London. He couldn't simply forsake all the chaos, that was his duty, and he had done enough already to disappoint his father, who he was sure was watching his every move from the grave. Another plaque in England and anarchy in the streets: that was failure.

"I am my mother's daughter, Arthur. I do not back down in the face of fear, to do so would be surrendering. Isabella of Castile never surrendered, and I intend to do her proud," Katherine magnanimously replied, feeling slightly elated. She moved closer to him. "Arthur, I am not doing this to prove to you or anybody else that I can handle it, I know this already in my heart. I am doing it because I love you, and I want us to have many more years together. I want you to meet our grandchildren; I want you to see Mary learn how to rule instead of being thrown into it. This is arrogance and pride, a great sin. You need to keep yourself safe, and allow me to handle this," Katherine explained, lightly placing her lips on his. "Please, for all the love you bear me, for all the love you bear our daughter, go,"

"I don't know, Katherine, I have failed at so many other things in this role, I feel like this would be a way to prove myself," Arthur explained. "I am so very happy you want to keep my safe, but I can take care of myself. I want you to be safe, so you can see our daughter grow up. She needs her mother more than her father," Arthur argued, knowing it was true. Mary needed someone like Katherine around to teach her how to become a woman; Arthur couldn't do that for her. If he allowed Katherine to stay in disease ridden London, and she got ill while he stayed away in isolation, he'd feel as if he failed as a husband, father, and King.

"No, she needs to not be thrown on the throne at age seven more than anything else. I have no claim in the throne, I can be replaced much easier than you can," Katherine stated. Arthur could easily remarry if she caught the sweat and died, and Mary would have a stable mother-figure in her life, while if he died, all hell would break loose at Mary's young age. "We need to have a son still, Arthur, remember that," she reminded him, even if it was futile. She hadn't yet fallen pregnant, despite their efforts. Still, if it gave him a reason to go away and to survive, she would do it.

"A son," Arthur whispered, rubbing her check. "I don't need a son, I need you. Let's both go away and leave Wolsey to handle things," Arthur compromised. While he would rather stay himself to prove to everyone he was no weakling, it was clear Katherine would not allow him to stay without giving him a heavy conscience, and if he was honest with himself, he couldn't die while Mary was so young. He could die much better knowing that his family was safe while his realm was in good hands.

"No, Wolsey is an old man, he will surely die in the face of this disease," Katherine argued, even though the truth was she didn't trust Wolsey enough, even if Arthur did. "Allow me to stay, please, and you go, go to Wales or wherever you want to, just go away so you can be safe. I will write to you often to let you know how it progresses," Katherine amended, knowing that if Arthur knew what was going on and was able to advise her, he would be able to rest easy.

"You promise?" Arthur confirmed, and with Katherine's nod, he finally gave in. "I will go as soon as possible, to make sure everything is settled. Send Mary quickly behind me, I don't want her staying here," Arthur commanded, kissing Katherine one more time before hurrying off. "I leave you the Regency," he yelled from behind him, vowing to tell his Parliament before he left.

"Maria! Get me some parchment; it is going to be a long day."

* * *

_Three Days Later_

Katherine stared out her window that overlooked the streets of London, and smiled upon what she saw.

While no mortal person could ever contain the death count, as that rose as the hours passed by, Katherine had sent orders to make sure that everyone stayed in their homes while the sickness raged. Doctors were sent across all parts of London to isolate the illness just in the city, so it didn't spread to the countryside, and by keeping people in their homes, no cases outside of a 25 mile radius of the city were reported. The streets were calm, the palace was calm, and Katherine felt accomplished.

She had not heard from Arthur, but she sent Mary on her way to Ludlow as soon as possible, and she expected that Mary was on her way there now, soon to be reunited with her father. She didn't get a chance to personally say goodbye, since she had been so wrapped up with the affairs of running a diseased realm, but she sent a message to Mary's chamberlain and to Lady Salisbury telling them to make haste.

Katherine felt sleep overtake her, and she laid her head on the hard oak table in her chambers, her eyes fluttering shut upon contact. She hadn't slept since Arthur had left; worry, fear, and business consumed her, leaving her to pull full days without one peep of rest. Her mind was so clouded; she knew that she needed at least a few hours of sleep in order to function at full potential again.

"My lady," she awoke to a hand shaking her arm, looking up in anger. She was just about to fall asleep, what on earth could be so important?

"What is it, Maria?" Katherine asked with a sigh, her patience dwindling. She knew it wasn't Maria's fault, yet she felt irritation towards the woman who had served her so well all those years.

"My lady, there is a man at the door. He says it is urgent, he has been trying to get a hold of you for a day now," Maria explained, moving out of the way so Katherine could greet the visitor.

Katherine suppressed a sigh and moved to the door, hoping that it was something truly important, but not serious. She had pretty much locked all visitors out of her rooms, besides her most trusted ladies, telling the rest of them to go into the countryside to keep themselves safe. She met with Parliament and city officials, but not with petitioners. She didn't have the time, or the patience, and now that she had opened her door, she thought with irritation, already somebody wanted something or another.

She opened the door, hoping that whoever it was could tell that she was beyond the point of sleep deprivation. A man spoke, clearly nervous, "Your majesty, forgive me for the disturbance, it's just, the Princess of Wales has fallen ill with the sweat. Dr. Linacre is attending her now as we speak, I just assumed…" he was cut off.

"What? Her highness is supposed to be on her way to Ludlow!" Katherine exclaimed. She had sent no orders for Linacre to attend on anybody in Wales, and nobody had told her. Anger burned inside of her, suppressing the fear aspect for now. "Why hasn't anybody told me? She is my daughter. And why was she not sent to Ludlow? Answer me!" she commanded, her face red with anger.

"Your majesty, your messenger appeared to have died on his way to my lady Princess' chambers," the man explained, gulping in fear.

"What? How is that possible! Why was I not informed? How long has she been ill?" Katherine questioned again, not caring that the man before her was not personally responsible for anything, just that he was there, and her anger was great and unimaginable.

"She has been ill for nearly a day, your majesty, and we have tried to get a hold of you, but you were not receiving any petitioners besides the Privy Council and members of Parliament," the man protested. "She is in good hands, the gracious lady governess summoned Linacre as soon as the Princess fell ill. She, however, is calling for you, your majesty."

Katherine did not need any more explanation than that, her daughter needed her. She pushed past the man and ran, forsaking all of her dignity, towards her daughter's rooms.

All of her daughter's attendants curtsied and bowed towards her, but she saw none of them. "Where is she? How is she, Dr. Linacre?" she asked, pulling the man aside who had cured her husband of the same disease many years ago. She suppressed the thought of Mary dying, at least for a moment, remembering how well Linacre cared for Arthur and how his life was saved possibly by his actions. She completely ignored the fact that it was the Welsh doctors who attended him mostly; she just wanted to hope that all would be well.

Linacre frowned deeply, his eyes deep with sorrow. "Your majesty, I believe the Princess of Wales has only hours to live. She will not make it through the night," he spattered out, keeping his head and eyes completely downcast. He hated having to tell any parent that their child was dying, but when it was the Queen of England, who loved her daughter above all other people, and when she was her only child, it took on a whole new scale of difficultly.

"Why can you not do anything? She is so young, doctor, surely something can be done!" Katherine insisted, tears forming in her eyes. How could she lose the only thing that she fought for? How could she lose the light of her life? She was not only Katherine's daughter, her firstborn; she was her only child, the only one who was strong enough to survive out of her other brothers and sisters. She would have rather died herself a thousand times than have Mary suffer premature death.

"Forgive me, your majesty, she is far too ill for any mortal to save her. If she survives, it is because God wills it," Linacre solemnly explained, bowing and turning around, not wanting to see such a gracious and well-spoken Queen cry. He would spare her the humiliation that he knew she would suffer for weeping in public.

To everyone's surprise, Katherine only let out a small whimper, and willed her eyes to stop watering. She needed to be strong now, for her daughter in her final moments. She did not want her daughter's last image of her to be a sorrowful weeping woman, she wanted her daughter to die knowing that both of her parents loved her and in ignorance of her pain. If Katherine was crying, she knew that Mary would be alarmed, and she wanted her to die calmly. She grabbed Linacre's arm. "I need to see her, to say goodbye," she softly commanded.

"Of course, your majesty," Linacre responded, not even citing the dangers of the disease. He knew that it wouldn't make a difference.

When Katherine walked into Mary's chambers, it was so surreal. She thought of how just a few days ago, she was in here, playing and laughing with her daughter, teaching her how to become a great Queen. Now, as she creped closer to the bed, her daughter was a shell of her former, happy self. She looked old and drawn out, like she was a retired general who had fought many battles. "Mama," she weakly called out, holding out her hand and favored Katherine with a weak smile. "I'm so happy that you are here."

"Everyone out," Katherine commanded, sharply turning her head around until all of them were gone. "Mary, my darling," Katherine cooed, moving to the side of her bed and taking her outstretched hand. She was utterly dismayed by the weakness of her grip. This sweat had clearly progressed farther than Arthur's had, who still had the energy to converse with her. All hope that Linacre was mistaken swept out of Katherine's head, but she tried to keep her composure and resolve to not weep in front of Mary while she was still able to speak to her.

"Mama, am I going to die?" Mary asked, her voice still sweet yet in her eyes there was a tint of sadness. None of her servants or doctors were being honest with her, but she could tell that they were worried. She had called for her mama many times, but nobody could seem to find her, which worried Mary. Usually, when she stayed at court, her mama was always so quick to come to her, and so she was worried that her mother had gotten sick as well as herself. She was relived to see otherwise.

Katherine absent-mindly rubbed her daughter's matted her and placed a kiss on her forehead before answering her question. This was the last time she was ever going to be able to speak to her, she thought sadly, so she didn't want to lie to her. "Sweetheart, do you remember what I told you about God's will?" She waited for Mary's nod, and forced herself to smile reassuringly before she continued. "Sometimes, God can seem cruel, and can end lives far too quickly for us to understand or to content ourselves with it right away."

She saw Mary's lip quiver, and tears spill out of her eyes, so she wiped them away quickly. "I know you are scared, but you don't need to fear death. You are such a good girl, God will welcome you into heaven with open arms," Katherine felt her voice crack, but she forced herself to continue, "and you will meet your ancestors, your grandparents and other people who love you just as much as I do."

"I don't want to leave you, or papa!" Mary protested as strongly as she could. A violent ripple of coughs racked her body, and more tears spilled. "Don't let God take me away, mama, please."

"Mary, oh my darling, if I had a choice you'd live forever and you'd be the best Queen of England that ever lived. However, I cannot argue with God's will, and neither can you or papa, or anybody else. He clearly has other plans for you in the afterlife," Katherine explained as gently as she could, her heart breaking at Mary's heartfelt pleas. She was clever in a lot of other respects, but Katherine knew she was far too young to understand God's ways, so she forgave her daughter for questioning Him.

"Where is papa?" Mary asked, her voice weaker than before. She loved her papa so much, and she wanted to say goodbye to him before God took her away.

Before Katherine could answer the bishop from Lambeth Castle, a good friend of Katherine's; Bishop Fisher, walked in, his face solemn and sorrowful. "Your most gracious majesty, I am here to give the Princess her final rites," he explained.

Katherine nodded and continued to kneel by her daughter's bedside. She grabbed the rosary from Mary's nightstand and fervently clasped it in-between Mary and hers hands. The Latin words given by Bishop Fisher were oddly familiar to her, but only because she had been present at the death of King Henry and of Margaret Beaufort, both of which she wasn't overly upset about. However, as she heard the words, she realized that this was the end, and like her father-in-law, Mary was slipping away.

After Bishop Fisher was there, she didn't know how long she stayed at the side of the bed, praying for the soul of her daughter. Once and a while, she would rub her dark, matted hair or kiss her soft check, savoring every moment with her, knowing that they were her last. Eventually, sleep overtook her prayers, and when they came in morning to remove the poor Princess Mary's body, her mother was still beside it, deep in a sleep.

"My lady," one of them dared to shake Katherine awake. "My lady, it is time to go, the Princess' body..." she was cut off.

"No! No! Mary, dear sweet Mary," Katherine cried, laying her whole body across her now dead daughter's. "Why did you take her from us, God, why not me? Please, Lord, bring her back," Katherine sobbed, her cries piercing the ears of everyone present. "She was too young to die, oh God, this has to be a dream," she protested at a whisper, turning to face the maids waiting for Katherine to leave. "What are you going to do with her?"

"Your majesty, we are going to take her to Westminster, they have already prepared a funeral," they explained, but again, they were cut off.

"No! You cannot have any sort of service until the illness has abated in London. I will not have my daughter's last rite here on earth ruined by panic. The King must be here, I know he cannot attend, but he must be here. So must the rest of her family, who loved her....everyone loved her," Katherine commanded, her voice weaker and crackling, so unlike the strong-willed Queen of the past four days. "Has somebody informed his majesty?" she asked.

"Yes, and bells will toll all day, to mourn for the beloved Princess of Wales," Maria explained, walking into the room. "Katherine, you need to leave now," she sharply suggested, as she was the only one with rights to speak to the Queen in such a manner.

Katherine wordlessly kissed Mary's forehead once again before heading out behind Maria, not daring to look back, until she was all the way into her apartments. "Maria, it is all my fault. If I had allowed that man to speak to me, Mary's chamberlain would have gotten the message and she would have never gotten ill. Now, look at what I have done. It is the sin of pride, I was so caught up in making sure that everything ran smoothly, and I acted as a Queen before a mother, as I have always done. Now, now she is gone," she sobbed, dropping her head onto Maria's chest.

"Shh, my dear mistress, quiet. It will all be alright," Maria soothed. "It was not your fault, things happen, as you have always said..."

"It is God's will. Even so, my dearest Maria, how will I ever go on without her and how will I go on knowing that I was the one who killed her?"

* * *

**Richmond Palace**

Anne giggled as Henry tickled her. She was unable to move from his grasp, his hands were secure around her shoulders and all she could do was cry tears of joy and mirth, so happy that she was able to be away from everything and just be with him.

"You know what you make me, my dearest Henry?" she asked, teasing him slightly.

"What is that?" Henry responded, moving to kiss her, but she stopped him, placing her hand lightly on his chest.

"The most happy," Anne replied, her eyes widening before she took her hands off of his chest and allowed him to kiss her all over. Like usual, she allowed Henry as much allowance with her body without him actually taking her virginity. Even after this time at Richmond, where they were left basically unsupervised, Anne had held on tightly to her virtue, never allowing Henry to steal it, even if she was tempted nearly everyday.

She wasn't sure if they were going to get married, since the Queen seemed so stubbornly opposed to their marriage, and after Henry dared to insult her, she took it out on Anne. Anne still wanted to marry Henry, her resolve was even stronger after spending days alone with him in the peaceful English countryside, where if it was even possible, she feel more in love with him. However, she couldn't give into his strong nature and sex appeal. And if she was honest with herself, even when they got married, Anne was scared. She had heard many things about it hurting, and how things could go terribly wrong. She also knew that Henry was experienced in the ways of love, and that he probably wouldn't be gentle for her first time.

She loved Henry and would do just about anything for him, but for now, she was more than contented to keep their relationship from taking that leap.

Henry stopped kissing her suddenly when he heard a knock at the door. Anne placed her head on the pillow and covered herself up; since she was not fully clothed and pretended like she was sleeping, thinking it was most likely Elizabeth of York. Elizabeth had been very kind to her since she had stayed her, and she was so grateful to her for being so understanding and supportive. Even so, Anne knew that even a kind woman such as her future mother-in-law would be suspicious of Anne's virtue if she walked in on them.

"Hello mother," Henry greeted his mother warmly and turned behind him to see Anne 'sleeping.' "Can we speak outside; Anne is very tired and is trying to rest," Henry asked and at Elizabeth's nod, closed the door behind him so Anne could gather herself and get dressed for dinner later. Since they had arrived at Richmond; Anthony, George, and William spent a great deal of time hunting, leaving their supper later than when Elizabeth usually had it. So instead of making Elizabeth eat alone, Anne and Henry usually joined her, saving plenty of food for when the other three came back.

"I have some terrible news Henry. The sweat has carried off your son's mother and little Princess Mary," Elizabeth explained, her face solemn. She had already cried many tears for her dear granddaughter, who was such a sweet and charming little girl, one who would have made a great Queen. She also felt terrible for poor Hal FitzYork, who was probably heartbroken at Eltham to be left motherless.

"Oh my God," Henry expressed in awe. He couldn't believe that poor Mary was dead! He loved that girl very much; she was the best of everything out of Katherine and Arthur. While he wanted the girl's position as heir to the throne more than anything else, and was happy that he now had it, he would give it up for little Mary to be alive again. Nobody as innocent as his niece deserved to meet such a premature end. "Poor Mary and poor Hal. As soon as I can, I will ride down to Eltham and comfort my son," Henry proposed, his face in a sad frown. He knew how much Hal loved his mother, who visited him as often as she could, and he was very upset that his son had to though so much pain.

"What is going on?" Anne asked, walking outside of their chamber with a worried expression on her face. She was wearing her nightgown, which she was easily able to change into by herself without drawing suspicion to her previous activities with Henry, which Elizabeth would disapprove of.

"My niece, Mary, has died, as well as my son's mother, Bessie Blount," Henry explained, wrapping his arm around Anne's shoulder and pulling her into a hug. Her presence made him feel better.

"I am so sorry for you loss, and yours as well, Elizabeth," Anne expressed, squeezing Elizabeth's age-spotted hand. "And the poor King and Queen as well. I know how much her majesty loved the Princess of Wales," Anne sorrowful expressed, not even allowing herself to think about what that meant in terms for her, even if it was in the back of her mind. She just thought of the grief-stricken Queen and how many times she had heard her mistress either speak of or play with her daughter, who she knew meant everything to her.

"I have heard that she has locked herself up in her rooms, only allowing Maria de Salinas to wait on her," Elizabeth reported. She knew what Katherine was going through, she had lost three of her children and thought she had lost Arthur to the sweat. As soon as it cleared up in London, she vowed to go and visit her distressed daughter-in-law and try and be of comfort to her. It was the least she could do, considering how protective and loving Katherine was towards Mary. It wasn't just any mother losing any child, Katherine and Mary had a special bond, and Elizabeth thought it would be just as bad for her to lose Henry as it was for Katherine right then. "Excuse me, I need to check on a few things," Elizabeth excused herself, sensing that Henry needed to say something to Anne.

"Katherine will mourn now for a very long time, this I am sure of," Henry stated, feeling a bit bad for the lady. He sympathized with her, knowing that Katherine did all of her cruel things with the primary motivation being Mary's position. He was sure there was probably some sort of void in her heart and loss of purpose. "I hate to sound heartless, but this would be the perfect time to petition Arthur for our marriage blessing. I am the heir now and he will want me marrying," Henry explained, glad that his mother had left. He would have felt uncomfortable speaking of his gladness at the whole thing, even if he would miss Mary, around her.

"I understand that, but we cannot badger the poor man. He has also just lost his daughter," Anne reminded Henry. "I know that it would be foolish for us, in practical terms, to pass up this, but we need to be gentle."

"Ah, my angel. You are very right; I will be kind to Arthur and understanding. I too loved my niece, and perhaps once he sees that I did not wish her ill, he will agree, for all of our sakes," Henry theorized. If Katherine would have not been around when he first asked, he wouldn't have had to exploit the loss of Mary, but now he couldn't afford to miss this chance.

"I hope so. Come on; let's pray for your niece now. I have no doubt she is in heaven, but it would best, don't you think?" Anne proposed, clasping his hand in hers and leading him towards the chapel. It was a powerful moment for Henry, to take his first steps as the heir to the throne, and for the first time, he felt like he had worth beyond his own means.

_This was terribly sad for me to write, mostly because I loved little Mary as a character. However, where I am heading now with this story in terms of plot should be clear by now. Also, I feel that it was needed for Katherine's characterization. I hope that wasn't too heartbreaking for you all the read, because it certainly was for me to write. I almost turned my back on it! I hope you all enjoyed it now, not sure what's in store for next chapter yet, I will soon though ;] Thanks for reading, please don't forget to review! Until next time, my friends :) _


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**Author's Note:** You are all so amazing! Everyone who reads this story deserves some sort of giant gold star :) Last chapter was by far my most read and reviewed one, nearly 20 of them, even if it was super sad. I'm so glad you all continue to read/favorite/review/alert the story! Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, I hope this one does not disappoint.

By the way, last Tuesday marked the date 473 years ago when Anne Boleyn was executed. Poor Anne :/ Just thought I'd share, since she's my favorite :)

Thanks again to ReganX! My constant source of ideas :]

Disclaimer: This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;]

Don't forget to hit that review button at the end :) Enjoyy!

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_September 15, 1523_

The sweat had finally cleared, and whoever had survived out the ashes on the plaque came in droves to cheer Arthur back on his return from Wales, even if it was bittersweet.

The commons were very happy that their beloved King Arthur had returned unharmed by disease, as his weak constitution was not well-hidden. However, they could tell by the look on his face that he was coming back to London with a heavy heart, and that his daughter's death had hit him very hard, turning their once joyous and mirth-filled King into someone somber and unrecognizable. He was dressed from head to toe in black, even his riding hat.

Arthur didn't waste any time riding into the entrance of Whitehall, thinking it had been far too long since he had stepped foot there. His face was creased into a thoughtful frown, and he could tell that most of the courtiers were unsure where to tread. It wasn't the first child the King and Queen had lost, but it was their only child to live past infancy, and as such, a much more painful loss.

"Welcome back, your majesty," one brave man greeted his King as Arthur walked with a nervous smile about his face.

"Thank you, sir; it is good to be back here in London, even if it is under such unlikable circumstances," Arthur wryly replied, grateful to the man for being the only one of his subjects to treat him like a human being. He was grieving, as was natural, but he wasn't going to break into hysterics if somebody spoke to him or offered him kindness, which was how people were treating him.

He knew that his wife, however, wouldn't be so strong in the face of their daughter's death.

The reports he had received from England after his daughter's death were disturbing, to say the least. Wolsey had stayed behind, even though Katherine and many others had believed he would die in the face of the disease. Thomas More also wrote to him a few times, after Wolsey fell ill and had to rest for a few days. Both of them told Arthur that Katherine had locked herself away with only her chief attendant, Maria de Salinas, and would not admit anybody else, not even the other members of her household. Despite Katherine's demands, the funeral procession for Mary went on as planned, but Katherine still did not budge from her apartments to pay her last respects to her daughter. She was too heartbroken, according to More.

Arthur had to go and see her, despite how uncomfortable it would be.

Maria seemed shocked to see him, but she let him in, flaunting her mistress' orders for the first time since she had locked herself up. Arthur wasn't surprised by how dark the room was; all of Katherine's shutters were closed and only a few candles were lighted, it made Arthur shudder inwardly as he walked in.

He noticed her right away, she was sitting on the chair by her fireplace, and despite the warm weather outside, there was a fire blazing as well as a cold winter's evening. From the dimness of the candlelight, Arthur could only see from a distance what his wife looked like, but it was enough for him to tell that the reports about her condition and sorrow were not exaggerated. She was from head to toe in black; her gown was plainer than anything he even knew her to be in possession of. Her hair was down and flowing, although he could tell it hadn't been washed properly since the sickness began, and there was a sheer black veil hanging down it.

As he approached her, he could tell her eyes were red-rimmed with tears that had already been cried. Arthur cried for his daughter and for his loss as soon as he heard, but he refused to allow himself to cry about it for any longer. No matter how many tears he cried, his little girl was not coming back to life.

"Thank you, Maria, for staying with her. I would like to be alone with my wife now, though," Arthur commanded, trying to keep his tone pleasant though he realized it came out a little sharp. He knew it wasn't Maria's fault that his wife looked the way she did, he was sure that she had tried to get her up and at least bathed, but he knew Katherine well enough that she would have refused. His wife was stubborn, to say the least, not one of her most endearing traits but Arthur had learned to live with it.

"Katherine, don't be sad. She is in a better place now," Arthur cooed, kneeling down to her level as soon as Maria left and placing a comforting hand on her arm, rubbing it up and down. He knew his wife was a deeply spiritual woman, who put a great deal of faith in God and in His will, so he hoped that this would be of some comfort to her. He wished that God would have blessed them with children, but it was clear that He wanted both Arthur and his brother to have a run at the throne, so Arthur had no choice but to accept it. He missed Mary, he was sure he always would think of her for the rest of his life, but he accepted her death as fate.

"Arthur, no, this wasn't just some test of God's will, this was my fault! It is the sin of pride, instead of making sure she left to go to Wales, I simply sent a messenger and never questioned it again. I acted as a Queen before a mother, and that was such a mistake!" Katherine protested, her tears flowing again, but she kept them restrained. "You should hate me, you should blame me for your heir's death," Katherine responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

"No, I could never hate you, and what happened was not your fault! What's to say that had the messenger dispatched the message, that Mary still would have survived? We cannot know these things, and blaming yourself will never bring her back, we just accept it as a sign of God's will and move on," Arthur explained, pulling her into a hug. He should have anticipated that his wife would blame herself, considering that she was in charge when Mary died, but Arthur could never bring himself to blame her.

Mary was a good daughter, and Arthur had no doubt, had she lived, she would have became a great monarch someday. But in knew in his heart that Mary was not the ruddiest girl, and her health was of concern to both him and Katherine. Katherine was unable to give him a son, and Mary was their only living child, and for this Arthur had loved her deeply, but he knew that they were lucky she survived as long as she did. Instead of placing blame or pointing fingers, Arthur intended to honor his sweet daughter's memory and accept that Henry would be the next King of England.

"Move on to what? Our daughter is dead, she was our only heir!" Katherine hysterically exclaimed, all the sudden energized. "My whole purpose is lost, she was everything to me! I cannot simply accept this, she was so important, why can't you see that?" Katherine questioned. When Mary was born, Katherine had finally been able to relax a bit as she felt more content with her role as Queen. Although her sex was a disappointment to Katherine at first, she began to work around it, and looked forward to a day when her daughter would get married and have a family of her own. Katherine focused a lot of her energies into seeing her daughter's position secured as the next monarch after her father, and now that Mary was with the angels, she had no idea what to do.

"I understand that sweetheart, but it will do you no good to cry tears or to lock yourself away like this! Henry is our heir now, and we need to make sure his position is secured," Arthur began, but seeing the hurt in Katherine's eyes made him second guess himself. He figured it wasn't the best time to bring up such sensitive issues such as Henry's position, so he stopped. "Why don't I have the cooks prepare your favorite dish and we eat together tonight? We'll talk about small things, no succession lines, no children; we'll just act as we did when we were young," Arthur proposed with a forced smile. He was just as upset as Katherine was, but he thought that if they started to act merry again, perhaps it would be easier to feel that way inside.

"No, I'm sorry love; I just don't think I can. Thank you for coming by, Arthur, but I think it best for myself to be alone," Katherine miserably replied, allowing herself to wryly smile at her husband, whose intentions at cheering her up warmed her heart at least just a little bit. He was always so patient and loving with her and Mary, and she knew that he was upset as well, and was putting on a brave face for her. She didn't want to make him continue. "I'm sure his eminence, Cardinal Wolsey, has a very large briefing to give you. Do not waste your time with your sorrowful wife," Katherine replied, getting up to kiss Arthur before motioning towards the door.

"Katherine, please, try to cheer up. Mary wouldn't want you to be this upset; neither would your mother," Arthur pleaded once before walking out the door, not daring to look back.

He was sure Katherine wouldn't want him to see her cry again.

_

* * *

_

A Week Later

Henry hated formal meetings with his older brother.

For one thing, Arthur conducted them with a state of grace that made Henry feel like he was actually talking to a reigning monarch instead of a brother, which always made him feel uncomfortable. He never believed that Arthur was any more suited to be King than him; in fact, he knew that there was more than one person who had spent time with the two boys in their youth that would have preferred Henry as the oldest opposed to Arthur.

Henry highly doubted, however, that those same people who attended them in their youth would have ever imagined Henry's path to the throne would be so easily carved out. Mary was their only living child, a girl at that, and nobody had ever seen that coming in the beginning months of Katherine and Arthur's marriage. The young couple was healthy, strong, and madly in love with each other, but Arthur's sickness crushed their dreams and made their lives harder. After Arthur took the throne, he became weaker, and therefore he was only capable of siring one living child, and a girl at that.

Henry didn't want Mary to die, and he was becoming more resigned to the idea of Mary as Queen before her death, especially since he had Anne and could happily picture himself living the rest of his days a mere Duke married to her; but now that Henry's path the throne seemed almost assured, he certainly wasn't going to regret taking full advantage of the situation.

So in this one case, Henry was very excited to have a meeting with his older brother, even if it meant being talked down to.

As soon as he arrived back from Richmond, after a visit to his son's establishment at Eltham to comfort the motherless boy, he was quickly given a message from Arthur requesting that he come to his apartments for a meeting about his future. Henry's heart fluttered at the intent of the meeting, almost certain it meant that he would now be treated as a future King instead of an unwanted second son, which meant that his chances of marrying his darling Anne just shot up tenfold. He was now in a position to make demands of his brother, and the power was gratifying for Henry.

For too long, he had been shoved in the corner of the royal family as more of a liability than a Prince. He couldn't lay the blame at Arthur's door, because he knew that Katherine had some kind of sick control over his brother and that she hated him and was suspicious of his actions. Now that Mary was dead, he hoped that Katherine would begin to treat him with the respect he deserved, since she had no reason to fear him from stealing the throne from her daughter. Henry was reasonable enough to believe that most of Katherine's actions were guided out of fear for her daughter's position, but now that Mary was no longer, Henry confidently expected to be treated better.

"Henry!" Arthur exclaimed, looking truly happy to see him. Henry imagined that many people had stayed away from his brother in recent days, considering that they believed him to be in the same state as Katherine was, but Henry knew better than that. Arthur had loved his daughter, there was no denying that, as no other man had ever placed a kingdom in the hands of a female heiress, but Henry knew that Arthur was a lot like their father in the sense that he was a business man and a King who rarely showed his emotions. While Arthur wore black garb, and expected that the rest of his subjects do the same in respect for Mary, he showed no other outward public signs of grief.

"Your majesty," Henry greeted, a bit more formally than Arthur had greeted him, and he made sure to bow. However, his attempt at formality failed when Arthur pulled him into a brotherly hug, and despite himself, Henry was smiling. Although the rivalry had never died between the two, with Henry more or less keeping it alive, he did enjoy the moments when they could forget that they were royal siblings and simply just be brothers, who cared about each other.

"I trust your journey here went well, and that mother and Mistress Boleyn made it back here in good health?" Arthur asked with a knowing smirk about his face. He was sure it confused Henry well, since nobody really knew where Anne had went during the sweat until Elizabeth wrote to Thomas Boleyn, and even then, Arthur was all the way in Wales.

"How did you know that Anne was with me?" Henry asked, dumbstruck.

Arthur simply grinned. "Kings know everything, my dear brother. In any case, I give you my blessing for your marriage. I know your nature well enough, you have your heart set on this woman, and I wish you both the best of luck," Arthur sat up from his desk and gave Henry a good natured shoulder slap before continuing, "and if you need anything, anything at all, do not hesitate to ask. I do have one small request that you wait until the Queen is done mourning. I want the whole family to be together" Arthur started, and waited for Henry's acknowledgement.

Henry just stood there for a few moments, his mouth agape in surprise. He had expected a bit more fighting to be done, he had no idea all it took to get Arthur's blessing in marriage was to get him alone. He knew that Arthur wanted him to marry for the sake of the succession as well, but he felt as though Arthur truly wanted him to be happy. "I will alert Anne of these developments. I only have one other request; I would like Anne to be discharged from the Queen's household and into our mother's. I think she'd be happier there" Henry stated.

Out of the endless goodness of her heart, his mother had invited Anne to become a member of her household, after what she heard was going on in Katherine's. Elizabeth had grown fond of Anne while they were stayed at Richmond, and she wanted to have her close by so she could get to know her even better, and Henry had no objections to it. He would rather Anne be with his gentle mother than with Katherine, who was not against bullying the innocent, so it appeared. He also thought it would be better if Anne learned from his mother what it meant to be a wife of a royal and how to run a household, all the things she needed to know before she became his wife.

"Of course, I have no objections. Our mother will teach her all she needs to know, I have no doubt," Arthur replied, pointedly avoiding any talk about Katherine's behavior. He knew that Katherine wasn't the happiest about Henry marrying Anne, considering she would have liked the salvage the alliance with the Emperor that his sister ruined by using Henry as a pawn, but Arthur knew his brother better than that. Henry was even more headstrong than his sister Mary, and he had his heart set on Anne Boleyn. Besides, Arthur figured there were worse commoners to marry than a Boleyn girl.

"Thank you, Arthur, I hope I can make her happy with all of this," Henry replied, his pride the only thing keeping him from embracing his brother. If only he had known before all it took was to get him alone!

"I'm sure she will be happy, brother, and I hope that you continue make her feel that way. Love is such a precious thing," Arthur wistfully stated, his mouth creasing into a frown, but he quickly snapped it back into a schooled smile. "I will make a public announcement of your engagement as soon as the mourning period is over," Arthur proposed with outwardly joy, but Henry could tell that Arthur's mood was somewhat soured.

Even if he couldn't thank his brother, since he felt as it was his right to get married to whom he pleased, he all the sudden sympathized with him. He knew how dearly Arthur loved Mary. "Would you like to take a walk, Arthur? You seem upset," Henry asked. He was his brother after all, and even if he tried to repress his feelings because he was King, Henry knew it would help him to talk about it. "It might help if you were able to talk to someone you trusted."

"Thank you Henry, I'd like to get out of here, it's too enclosed," Arthur replied, leading the way out of the palace and into the gardens. He had kept himself like a closed book over the recent days, days when by all rights he should have been mourning properly for Mary, but he had no time to do so. By the time he found out about her death, the sickness was nearly past, and he was preparing to head back to his duties. He couldn't stall, that would be impolitic of him, even though he wanted to. Now that he was back at Whitehall, there was hardly any time for him to stop and get out of his system, and he was grateful to Henry for bursting him out of his sorrow shell.

"I am deeply sorry about Mary's death, she was a sweet girl. We said prayers for her at Richmond," Henry began, not looking at his brother's face. He wanted Arthur to be able to get things off of his chest, but he didn't want it to become awkward or too touching. They never had that type of relationship, and he was okay with that.

Arthur heaved a deep sigh. "I know it was God's will, I keep telling myself that at least," Arthur paused before he was able to gather his thoughts, "it's just that she reminded me so much of Katherine when we were first married- that sweet tempered innocence, with just a hint of ambition," Arthur sighed again, this time it was longer and more tense. "Don't misunderstand me, I love Katherine deeply, I couldn't ask for a better wife. It's just she's changed so much, at first it was attractive for her to be so involved in the affairs of the kingdom, and I appreciated her advice. Somewhere along the line, she morphed into someone I cannot even recognize, and it scares me," Arthur confessed.

Henry had so many things he could have said at that moment about his sister-in-law and what kind of woman he thought her to be, but he said nothing. He didn't think it would make Arthur feel any better to hear his wife get trashed by his brother. "You were both so happy when you were first married," Henry stated instead, a useless but neutral statement. He knew how much it took to get Arthur to open up like this; he didn't want to make him regret it.

"Yes, and I would give anything to go back to those days. Mary was my escape, when I spent time with her, I saw the Infanta Catalina, not my current wife," Arthur quietly revealed. "You don't know what you are getting into when I pass, Henry. This is a most heavy burden, there are so many pressures, and sometimes I physically feel as though I cannot breathe," Arthur confided, placing a comforting arm on Henry's shoulder.

"When we were children, I always knew you were destined for great things. I think you will hold the crown well, do not doubt me on that point, but I could not rob you of a loving wife now that you are my heir," Arthur reflected. "Without Katherine, I think I would have been dead a long time ago. I am grateful to her for giving me Mary for the short time that she lived, and for giving me life again. I think that if I was not married to her, I would have died when I was sixteen years old," Arthur revealed. He remembered those dark two days when he was on his deathbed and Katherine's image came into his mind. He couldn't leave her alone with his vicious and merciless family, he had to fight for her, and he did. Even if their marriage had soured over the years, his love for her never did.

Henry smiled, and for the first time, he began to understand his brother's love and admiration for his wife. Even if he could never like Katherine as a person, he could no longer begrudge Arthur for loving her. He hoped that someday, he could feel the same way about Anne, after they had been married long enough. "Thank you, Arthur. I intend to do you proud when I become King," Henry promised, swallowing his pride to thank his brother. Even if he did not agree with Arthur's vow to stay out of war, and other decisions he had made while he was King, Henry did not want to ruin Arthur's country.

Arthur grinned. "I know you will, and you'll probably be a far more energetic one than I was," Arthur laughed before turning serious. "I want you to be good to Anne, be faithful to her and love your children, male or female. I think that my happiest day on this earth was when Mary was born, and I did not allow myself to be the least bit disappointed by her sex. I savored every moment with her while she was alive, and I advise you to do the same. You don't know when God will take them away," Arthur advised, tears welling in his eyes, but he quickly sucked them up. He had cried enough tears when she died.

Henry gave his brother a wan smile, bittersweet. He was sad that his brother felt the way he did, but he was also happy; happy that his life was just beginning. Arthur patted him on the shoulder once more before departing, his silence the only thanks Henry would have accepted. He sat on the bench in the gardens for a few moments, reflecting upon what his brother said, and he vowed that he would do his best to live up to his brother's example. His thoughts on Katherine did not affect the wisdom of his brother, and while he wasn't going to be the same type of King, he thought his brother was a wise one, thoughtful and shrewd.

"Alone, your grace? I thought you'd be celebrating with Mistress Anne!" a smooth male voice said from behind him, one that Henry recognized all too well, drawing him from his thoughts.

"Thomas! I mean, your eminence, I am honored," Henry teased, standing up to embrace his old tutor and friend, Cardinal Wolsey. "How are you my dear friend? I see the sweat left you in one piece," Henry remarked.

"Yes, and for this, I am grateful to God. I have heard your news though, and I am so happy to hear that you and Anne Boleyn are getting married. She is a good, well-rounded woman. King Francis speaks highly of her," Wolsey remarked. He was very pleased when heard the news that Princess Mary had died, leaving Henry as the heir to the throne. He was sorry for King Arthur and for Queen Katherine (even though he was not very fond of her) and he was outwardly mournful as well. However, with Henry was the next King, he was almost assured to keep his position and to climb even higher. As well as that, when he heard his pick of wife from King Arthur, he was pleased. Anne Boleyn was a friend of France, and so was Wolsey.

"She is everything I could have ever wanted in a wife, and then more. It's a good thing I never joined the clergy, isn't it?" Henry teased again, his mood so jovially he could burst. "If so, I never would have met her and experienced what true happiness is."

"Yes, it's a shame, those vows of celibacy keep so many young men away from the church," Wolsey remarked, not daring to think of his mistress and two children.

"Ah, you never held them up anyway, you old dog," Henry remarked again, a sly smile on his face when he saw Wolsey turn red-faced and embarrassed. When he first found out about Wolsey's mistress, he was too young to quite understand why a clergyman could ever be allowed to break his vows, but as he grew older, he realized the clergy were not kept on as heavy of a tether as he once believed they were. However, it didn't make him change his mind about the decision he made to stay away from it, he still believed that was the smartest choice he could have made.

Wolsey ignored the younger man, but allowed himself to smile in spite of himself. "Your grace, I would like to be the first to present you and your wonderful fiancé with a gift, if I may?" At Henry's nod, Wolsey continued. "My palace at Hampton Court has just recently been finished, and I would like you to have it, once you've seen it and it is agreeable to you," Wolsey proposed, dropping down in a bow and presenting the key to Henry.

Wolsey was proud of Hampton Court, and it was a loathe to give it up, but he realized the importance of staying in his old pupil's good graces trumped almost everything. He needed to do it now, too, because if he waited until after they were married, when the Queen was well, his chances of being Lord Chancellor would be slim to none if she found out about him giving away such a gift.

Henry simply smiled and took the key out of Wolsey's hand, and lifted him out of his bow. He then embraced his friend, and from behind his back, he stared in hungry wonderment at the key in his hand.

It certainly was a promising start.

* * *

"I have just received a letter from my son, the King," Elizabeth announced, sitting down next to Anne Boleyn in her newly furnished apartments at Whitehall. They were almost as lovely as her suite of rooms at Richmond, and she was able to afford it only because of Henry's generous gift to her. They made her feel more at home at court.

"What does it say?!" Anne asked, feeling as giddy as a school child. When Elizabeth suggested that she join her household as opposed to staying in Katherine's, Anne was so thrilled and grateful. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, to service a woman who hated Henry with such a passion. She respected Queen Katherine still, and was so sorry for the loss of her daughter, but she could no longer act as a servant to her when she expected one day to take her place.

Elizabeth had made it clear that an appointment in her household would be totally different than Katherine's; Anne would be more like a companion than a servant, and it would be like a learning course in royal household management. Elizabeth was aware that Anne knew little to nothing about running a household at such a large scale, and she didn't want her to be thrown into her new position as Duchess of York without a training course of some sort. She was fond of Anne in any case, and wanted to make her transition from commoner to royalty easier.

"He has accepted your appointment to my household, and you have been discharged from Katherine's" Elizabeth read with a smile, and embraced Anne from where they were seated.

Anne was so pleased that Arthur was so open and willing to accept their marriage and give them their blessing, which the letter in Elizabeth's hand also stated. While the ladies were celebrating, Henry walked into his mother's room; he too was unable to keep the smile from his face. "Sweetheart, mother," he greeted them both as they stood up with a warm kiss, on the check for his mother and on the lips for Anne.

"What brings you here?" Elizabeth asked, motioning for Henry to sit down and for one of her servants to get him a goblet of wine.

"I have some very exciting news. Wolsey has given us the estate at Hampton that he was building, as a wedding present. It is the size of Whitehall, and is brand new," Henry announced, his smile wide as Anne's face turned from shock to absolute joy.

"That is wonderful news, Harry and Anne. You will have a court equal in scale to Arthur and Katherine's. It will be good practice," Elizabeth remarked shrewdly as Henry and Anne embraced each other from happiness.

Henry stayed for a bit longer, talking to his mother and future wife before heading out to hunt with his friends, and they were going to ride out to Hampton to see the estate. Anne declined the invitation, as she wanted to speak more to her future mother-in-law.

"I have a sensitive question, Elizabeth," Anne began, feeling more welcome now that she could address her by her Christen name opposed to the formal and cumbersome majesty. At her nod, she continued, "Henry, has he always been such a passionate person?" Anne asked, her nervousness palpable.

"Since he was a boy, he has been that way. His father had such a hard time controlling him; he was displeased with his behavior. Margaret Beaufort blamed it on me," Elizabeth replied, her smile wistful. "Why do you ask?" she asked after a few moments pause, realizing that this wasn't the answer Anne was looking for.

"Oh it's nothing really, it's just..." Anne stuttered, clearly embarrassed. At Elizabeth's encouraging, she soldiered on, "I am truly a maid, and although I made a vow to myself and to my family that I would stay that way until I was married, my virtue wasn't the only thing holding me back. I had heard horror stories from some of the ladies in France, whose husbands and lovers were rough with them when it was their first time," Anne explained, clearing her throat before continuing, her voice quieter, "and it's just, I know that Henry loves me and would never hurt me, I just fear that his passion and our long-awaited chastity will someone make him lose his tenderness. It is not as if it is his first time as well."

"Oh Anne," Elizabeth comforted, putting her hand on top of Anne's, willing herself not to laugh. "It does not hurt badly at all, I promise you that. If you are worried about pain, you should fear your first childbirth, not your first time alone together in bed. Harry loves you, and if you tell him to take it slow, he will," Elizabeth assured her, laughing a bit when her face lost its nervousness. "You will make him happy, you do know that? And if I know him well enough, he will make you happy as well."

_So that's it for this chapter, didn't turn out as well as I wanted, but I hope you all enjoyed it (I say that about every chapter, I know). Hope I captured Katherine and Arthur's reactions as you all hoped, next chapter will be lighthearted, as Anne and Henry will finally be getting married! Thanks everyone for reading, don't forget to hit that review button :)_


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! I'm so sorry for the super long delay, my last couple weeks of school were intense and cheer started back up again- needless to say, I've been quite the busy bee. I also wanted this chapter to be just right, and I was overwhelmed, having a bit of the disease called writer's block. If I wasn't able to thank you personally because you are an anonymous reviewer, thanks for reviewing last chapter! And for all those who read/favorited/alerted last chapter as well, that was very nice of you as well :)

ReganX is amazing, by the way :) Thanks for all of your help!

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;] **Warning, very slight sexual content in here. Hope it doesn't offend anyone. **

Don't forget to review! Enjoy :)

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Whitehall Palace

_April 21, 1524_

Anne Boleyn never pictured her wedding day to look quite like this. She always expected to gain an advantageous marriage, in hopes that it would benefit her father in whatever small way she could possibly accomplish, but never did she imagine that it would be on this scale or this glamorous.

She was always the last Boleyn sibling noticed; not until the past year did Anne actually begin to feel as if she was of some importance to her family. Throughout her childhood, she had studied hard, hoping to surpass her sister with brains because almost everyone had made it clear that Mary was the more attractive of the sisters; and more likely to profit from her beauty than Anne was from her atypical looks. Anne had decided that her only hope was to become the most intelligent girl at the French court, and later, in England, just to gain some attention to simply get her name out there.

Now, Anne was the one pulling all the ambitions of her family on her shoulder. As such, her father confidently expected that he would be made an Earl at the very least, once Anne gave Henry children. Her brother, always a favorite of Henry, was the most understanding of all of her family members, yet Anne could see the flicker of desire in his eyes; the desire for more titles, wealth, and positions- whatever they could possible gather from her marriage they wanted, and expected, to have.

At first, Anne loved the thrill of getting all this attention from her family and others; finally she was the one that was being noticed! She felt so young and naïve in those early days after King Arthur graciously gave his blessing on Henry for their marriage. People at court started to notice her, and once it became clear Henry was going to succeed his brother peacefully, both she and her future husband were treated better than they ever expected. It was a thrill for both of them, because like Anne, Henry was accustomed to being the one in the shadows, the one his family didn't notice or think was special. Like it was always Mary for the Boleyns, Arthur was the favored Tudor son, but now the tides were turning, and she was delighted that he could finally have his moment, as well as her own.

However, it had been nearly a year since King Arthur had given them his blessing, and Anne had grown tired and quite irritated with all the waiting. It was really nobody's fault, but she was sick of the anticipation. Not only was she impatient to marry Henry; her father was acting like a cat waiting to strike a mouse, and in all of her seventeen years she had never seen him so anxious and intense, and often time the brunt of his anger was directed towards her and her marriage.

At first, her father was willing to do whatever it took to parade Anne in the limelight of the court; which included new gowns, jewelry, and pretty much whatever material trinket Anne requested so she could dress herself as befitted a future Duchess and Queen. But after the first six months, her father's doting turned from paternal and proud into blameful and down right nerve-racking. He was always suspicious of the reasons why the wedding was being delayed, any slight trip and he believed that the Queen was pulling strings from behind the scenes to stop the wedding- using her infamous art of persuasion to get her husband to agree to every demand she had.

Anne, of course, knew her father was speculating and fearing needlessly. Queen Katherine mourned her daughter for nearly three months, in which time King Arthur had asked Henry and Anne to postpone their wedding until the Queen was ready to partake in the merriment, as he believed a show of unity was very important for the royal image. Both Henry and she were all but willing to comply, despite their stubborn natures. The King had shown them great kindness and was going to provide them with a wedding that all the stuff that dreams were made out of, and neither of them could find it in their hearts to argue.

By the time her former mistress had stopped mourning and reemerged into court life, it was winter months and all minds were focused on the Christmas celebrations. Besides, Henry had convinced Anne, who had allowed her father's paranoia to get the best of her, that it would be better to have a wedding in the summer, when the weather was warmer and the celebrations didn't have to take place in the snow. Henry believed that it was better to have all hearts and minds focused on them on the day of their wedding, since they had both waited so long for their own moments, and something like freezing temperatures and Christmas would divert attention away from them.

Queen Katherine had even come to her apartments, the new, much more spacious ones allotted to Anne by Elizabeth of York, to pay her respects and give her blessing on the union, most graciously and without any sign of disgust or discontent. Anne had smiled and accepted it with as much grace and dignity as she would have before the Queen tried to insult her. She knew that the Queen was a good woman, a strong woman who was only looking out for the interests of her daughter. Now that the poor Princess Mary was dead, Anne believed that Queen Katherine would allow Henry and Anne to live unmolested, since they posed no threat to her daughter.

Anne really did feel bad for her; she could only imagine the void in the poor woman's heart. She knew that Queen Katherine wouldn't have liked her sympathy, she wasn't that type of woman, but she could only speculate how terrible it was to lose a child. She would be quite content to live the rest of her days as the Duchess of York alongside Henry, raising their children to become heirs to his duchies, not to the throne. If the King and Queen had another child, preferably a son, then Anne would be so happy for them, knowing that their lives needed that ray of sunshine after a dark cloud left by their daughter's death had passed over them.

But she knew that it wasn't going to happen, Queen Katherine was only getting older, and she knew that England's heirs were going to be her responsibility, and Anne didn't really mind it; in fact, she had began to relish it. It would do untold things for her family, and for herself. She would be lying if she told herself that she didn't even have any ambitions to see herself as Queen of England someday. While she was fond of her future brother-in-law, knowing that possibly if he had not been around she would have drowned in that pond all those years, yet becoming Queen of England was something that she confidently looked forward to.

So she took each new delay with a steady temperament, knowing that good things came to those who waited. When she did lose her temper, which had begun to happen more often, she did it around Henry, who took it well. If she did it around her father, it would only inflame his worries even more, and Anne didn't think she could take any more of his constant prodding about the state of her relationship with Henry and Henry's relationship with the Queen and King.

The clamoring of her sister Mary drew her from her thoughts, as the final laces of her beautiful satin and lace gold and white gown were tied up. "You don't look so happy, Anne, especially for a bride. Why the long face?" Mary innocently asked from behind her sister, trying not the let envy or sarcasm drip into her tone. She loved her little sister, and was very proud of her, yet at the same time, it hurt to see Anne become so successful. She just kept thinking how wonderful it would have been if the early outlook about her future would have been true after all; if she had not settled for mediocrity.

"What is it, Anne? What ever could be the matter?" Thomas Boleyn asked, breaking tradition by being in the presence of his daughter while she was getting dressed. His daughter was a smart girl, always had been, so he could only hope that she was aware of the implications of this wedding. If she looked sad or downtrodden on the day that Henry had uncharacteristically waited patiently for, her mood would not be tolerated by her future husband, no matter his love for her.

Anne sighed inwardly, knowing that his worry was more for his own position than for hers. "It's nothing, sister, I assure you," Anne began, pointedly not acknowledging her father's insistent question. "I was simply thinking, that's all. It has been a long road, hasn't it?" Anne rhetorically questioned with a smile. She was nervous, she couldn't deny that, yet she couldn't appear that way. Henry wouldn't want her to be nervous, he would want her to act like the future Duchess of York- serene, stoic, a perfect wife. Anne had no idea how she would fulfill that daunting role, even after the wedding that day.

"One that his grace has waiting very patiently for, as you well know, daughter," Boleyn reminded his youngest unnecessarily, with a tone of reprimand that only his two daughters picked up on. All the other maids of Anne's chamber, all five or six of them given to her by the Queen Dowager, were preoccupied happily with some other task related to the wedding, most of them were preparing the room for the wedding night, where Henry planned to stay.

"I know that," Anne replied, her tone broaching no room for argument. She didn't want her mood to be marred on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. "You must remember that I too, have waited a long time, _father,"_ Anne added on, smiling inwardly as she saw her father make a move to scold her harshly, had it not been for her attendants. Although the lack of privacy would be hard to get used to, given the fact that once Henry and she moved to Hampton Court following their wedding, she'd be assigned a bigger household, she thought she could get used to carrying the upper hand in conversations with her father.

"You look gorgeous, Anne," Mary complimented, wanting to break the awkward silence that feel between her father and sister. "You will be the envy of every woman present," Mary added, hoping to strike her sister's competitive nature. She breathed a sigh of relief when Anne put on a wide smile.

"As she should be, she is the bride after all," Elizabeth of York complimented, emerging into Anne's chamber with a wide smile on her face. All of the chamber maids stopped what they were doing and dipped into a deep curtsy, as well as the three Boleyns who were clamoring around their star.

Anne knew that Elizabeth had asked her to stop being so formal around her, but she didn't want to risk it in front of her father, who was watching her every move, waiting for her to slip up. He wouldn't understand that she had developed a daughter-mother bond with Elizabeth of York; he would have assumed that she was disrespecting Henry's mother. She couldn't wait until she moved to Hampton with Henry and they set up their own court there, hoping that her father's duties kept him at Whitehall, only being able to visit infrequently.

"Thank you, your majesty," Anne replied, moving to hug Elizabeth, now that the formalities had been dispensed. "You may leave us now," Anne dismissed everyone, including her father and sister, wanting to spend some alone time with her future mother-in-law, who had truly been the kindest person to her during these long months of tireless waiting. Her father shot one last look of hesitation, the anger written all over his face about being dismissed by his daughter. Nevertheless, he smiled and congratulated Anne once more and took his leave, promising he'd wait for her outside the church to escort her down the aisle.

Elizabeth smiled giddily at Anne and took both of her hands into her own. "I'm so happy that someone as lovely as you is finally going to marry my Harry. I never thought I'd see the day," Elizabeth gushed, unshed tears glittering in her eyes. She could remember a time when the best she thought her favorite son was going to do was become the Archbishop of Canterbury, a boy as ruddy as her own condemned to a life of celibacy and dourness.

She was so pleased when Arthur released Henry from their father's posthumous bonds, due in no small part; Elizabeth was sure, from Margaret Beaufort's inheritance. It was ironic to Elizabeth that Margaret Beaufort was responsible for her Henry's happiness, at least in some small way. She had always strove to make Henry's life a living hell, more so than the other children, so it seemed to Elizabeth. Henry was given the strictest lessons and was watched so carefully by her, since her husband was immersed with Arthur's upbringing, not sparing more thought than necessary towards his 'spare's' education. Elizabeth knew that if Margaret were still alive, she'd be protesting this wedding, but then again, it wouldn't be the only thing she would have protested in Arthur's reign thus far.

Katherine was one of them. While the notoriously busy and well-educated Queen of England, her husband's chief advisor, was not one for low-profiles or staying in the shadows, Elizabeth saw someone else reemerge in the wake of Mary's death. She had never seen her daughter-in-law so dignified before in her life the day that she stepped out from her sheltered existence of her chambers and into the court again. She knew that Katherine was well-praised for her behavior before this, but she noticed that more and more courtiers began to realize that the Queen wasn't simply just a shrewd wife, she was more than that. She was a leader, who took her suffering with quiet reserved grace.

However, before Mary's death, Margaret Beaufort was most likely turning over in her grave at the behavior of Katherine of Aragon. While she was alive, she hated Katherine with a burning passion, but she probably cursed her from the grave. She would have hated Arthur's bolstering of Mary as the Princess of Wales, she would have scolded Katherine for mourning too long, and even before they had children, she would have been disgusted in Katherine's interference in her husband's matters.

For everyone involved in the royal family, it was a blessing that the old woman was dead.

"Thank you, it means so much that you are pleased about this marriage. I fear how the Princess Mary will react to this, it must have been a shock for her," Anne pondered. Per Henry's request, Arthur forgave his sister Mary and her husband Charles Brandon for marrying without his permission and invited them back to court for the wedding. Anne was aware that they had arrived back the previous day, having little time to settle before having to celebrate a marriage that they probably did not know of.

Anne knew that Henry wrote to his favorite sister often, but it had been over a year since they were banished for daring to upset the balance of the Emperor's alliance with England, and things had progressed greatly since they had been in Yorkshire, forbidden to return to Whitehall until King Arthur forgave them. Anne knew that her future sister-in-law, who wasn't much older than her, would be thrilled with the news of her brother becoming the heir apparent to the throne, but Anne wasn't sure how she would react to the news that he was to be married to a commoner. She wanted so badly to be accepted into Henry's family, knowing that it would be better for both her happiness and for her position.

"I'm sure she will be thrilled for Harry, after all, she married much farther below her, and without permission. My daughter has no room to judge anyone," Elizabeth hastened to reassure Anne. She knew that above all things, Anne was worried about her birth and how it compared to other royal suitors. She was probably aware, as most were, about how harshly Katherine and Arthur condemned the marriage of Mary and Brandon, and even Elizabeth herself had scolded her daughter before she took off for her exile.

However, Anne was a different story. Henry was a man, and was now in a position of great power both within their family, and in the country. His marriage was a matter of great importance, and Elizabeth knew her son well enough that he would have stubbornly refused to marry a royal woman, not when his heart was set so firmly on Anne. If Katherine truly would have persuaded Arthur to set up a marriage contract between one of her nieces and Henry, she was sure he would have gone the same way as Mary, marrying Anne without permission. For everyone's sake, Elizabeth was pleased that her eldest son had a level head in this regard.

As well as that, Anne was from a far grander bloodline than Charles Brandon. Though she was not a shining candidate for a royal marriage under any other circumstance, she at least came from respectable people. Brandon only was allowed at court due to his father's sacrifice, while Anne had spent time in two royal courts before this marriage. Anne and Henry had also shown great prudence during the time of their courtship, engaging in a love that had stayed chaste for nearly a year. She didn't want to believe it about her own daughter, but Elizabeth thought that Mary's marriage of 'love' was driven in part by her own lust. She believed that Henry and Anne truly loved each other, and would be happy together.

"I'm glad to hear that," Anne replied indifferently, her mind now drifting to other places. She paced around her room for a few more moments, not even aware of Elizabeth's stares. She was too nervous to think of anything else. "We best go now," Anne muttered after the silence became too telling.

When Elizabeth continued to stare at her in worry, Anne adopted her most confident tone, "We have a wedding to go to, after all."

* * *

It was strange how fast everything went by, after how long he had waited.

For so many years, as a child, he was treated as the second son, the one who wouldn't amount to anything. His father's cruel and somewhat unfair plan for him to enter the church was something he looked at with dread and apprehension, wanting to never grow up as to escape the fate craved out for him. He had done whatever it took to get out of his forced confinement in the church, and once he escaped, he lived the bachelor life well, never once envying married men.

Never, in all of his twenty years, did Henry, Duke of York and Somerset, Earl of Kendal, expect to get married- until he met her.

His smile was wide when he saw Anne walk done the aisle, wearing a smile broader than he'd ever seen on any person. He could see the fear in her eyes, the nervousness, yet she hid it so well, and any bystander looking on would have never second guessed her. He knew that she was relatively unprepared a year ago to become his wife, which required her to have a great many skills not given to commoners, and he was proud of how far she had come. She looked so beautiful too, Henry wasn't even sure if she was mortal. She looked straight from heaven, an angel come into his life just at the right moment. Her father, Boleyn, held her arm proudly, probably amazed at how far his daughter and by extension his family had risen.

Henry took a moment to glance around at the crowd. In the front pew, as was customary, was his brother and sister-in-law. It was nice to Henry to see Katherine look so pleased at the whole thing, as she helped Arthur plan it. It was a start, Henry figured, and Anne had told him that she came personally to Anne's apartments to bless the marriage, and she didn't raise a word of protest when Arthur forgave Mary and Charles in time for the ceremony. Henry hoped that he and Katherine could become more reconciled to each other, as Katherine seemed to want the past behind them. As long as she did nothing more to hurt himself or his family, Henry would make an effort, as hard as that was, to be more cordial towards her.

His sister was sitting next to his mother, with Brandon on her other side. As he had expected, his mother's eyes were shinning with tears. He knew that no other person in this room, save for himself and Anne, was more pleased at the wedding. Henry truly was grateful to his mother for everything she did in the long months before this wedding, and how patient she was. He thought he would have definitely lost his temper, and resolve to follow Arthur's orders, had she not been there. Mary looked pleased, and was just as beautiful as ever. She had already given Charles a son, a fine boy who was still in the country.

Henry was so excited when his friend and sister were allowed back at court. As a boy, his constant source of support came from Brandon, and he wouldn't have wanted him to miss the most important day of his life. He also remembered a time when his jealously of Arthur reached an all time high, Mary's presence as well as her husband's had been his saving grace, the only thing that got him through some days. Amongst the crowds, he also spotted Compton and Knivert, both with grins on their faces.

Henry held out his hand to grab Anne's arm as Thomas Boleyn gave her away. He gave it a reassuring squeeze and whispered in her ear, "You look beautiful," causing her to truly smile; not that façade she had on earlier.

Wolsey motioned for the bride and groom to kneel on the cushions before them, and Henry had to turn for a moment to make sure it was truly happening, that this wasn't a cruel dream and he'd wake up in his apartments, a clerical robe staring him down, another disappointment. Instead, he was relived to see that it was truly Anne next to him, just as real as the day he laid eyes on her at the masque.

It was ironic, to Henry, that it was Katherine that had brought him and Anne together, despite her earlier protesting. Had it not been for Katherine's fondness of Anne when she served in her household, Anne would have never been given the honorable position next to his sister, and he doubted he would have noticed her.

It was troubling to think that he would have continued to ignore Anne, thinking of her as only the sister of George, one of his closet friends. He doubted that he would have ever gotten the resolve to marry had he met another girl that captured his attention, Anne was special, and Anne truly wanted to be his wife.

Henry wasn't even paying attention when Wolsey spoke the Latin words binding them together until death due them part, finally giving Henry his dream; the throne in his sights and a beautiful wife at his side.

Henry and Anne exchanged vows, adding whatever personal touches they could, not wanting the ceremony that they had both waited so patiently for and fought for to be robbed of its sentiment or value. Henry would have been disappointed if this wasn't everything Anne dreamed of, and more. And Anne would have been worried if Henry wasn't pleased with the ceremony, knowing how patient he had been, even though he was flamboyant and compulsive by nature.

Henry tenderly placed a beautiful ring on Anne's finger, and she stopped for a moment to admire its intricate texture and design. She placed a far plainer band on Henry's finger, though it was expensive, as it was crafted out of pure gold. No expense was spared for this wedding, both from the royal treasury and Henry's own funds.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride, your grace," Wolsey concluded, smiling earnestly.

Henry gladly cupped his new wife's face with his hands and gently placed a kiss on her lips, a bit longer than curtsy dictated, longer than Arthur's wedding kiss to his wife.

Amidst the roar of applause, as the newly married couple faced the crowd, Henry glanced at the woman beside him. Finally, she was his wife, his Duchess, his everything.

Mostly importantly, his only love.

* * *

"Does it hurt?" Anne asked Mary quietly as her sister began to untie her wedding gown, allowing it to fall in a pool beneath her. Mary then slowly began to untie her corset from underneath as another maid, mutely, went to go get the nightgown set aside for Anne's wedding night, leaving the two sisters alone in the small closet allotted for Anne to change.

Mary thought about it for a few seconds, knowing that she was not the first person Anne had probably asked this question to. Doubtless her sister was afraid, but Mary had to believe Henry wouldn't rush into it. It seemed to Mary that the man was so careful as to not upset her in anyway. "No worse than falling off of a horse. I have no doubt you will be able to handle it, sister," Mary replied carefully. She didn't want to frighten her sister, but she wasn't sure how she would react or feel. Women had different experiences.

Anne nodded stiffly, sparing a smile at the maid who began to place the nightgown over her body. She gave Mary's hand another squeeze and mouthed a thank you before stepping out into her room, which seemed to be filled with half the court. Anne stepped out as confidently as she could, not daring to look at the courtiers, just straight ahead, where her husband was, a wan smile on his face as to comfort her.

As Wolsey began to pray, Anne gladly dropped her head downcast, not wanting to look at all the faces. It was embarrassing to her that even if they left during the act, they would all know what was happening even if they weren't present. While she was grateful to Henry's father for abolishing public consummations, as was the custom in most royal courts, it was still hard to for Anne to accept that this was the way things were.

After what seemed like an eternity, the bed was splashed with holy water and the court made their bows and curtsies to the Duke and Duchess of York, heading out to continue in their celebrations, Anne and Henry were able to climb into their bed.

Anne lay down immediately, sensing that Henry wanted to get at it right away, knowing that he had laid claim to her virginity nearly a year ago, after they were married. Now that the time had approached, Anne assumed he would go at it wildly, releasing all of his built up passion in one single night.

Instead, she was pleasantly surprised when he took her hand in his and kissed it. "Don't be nervous sweetheart, I won't hurt you," Henry assured her. He had been with a virgin before, but he himself was one at the time. He couldn't be assured of the other girls besides Bessie, even if they had told him so, he couldn't actually know. But he resolved to be gentle, not allowing his great passion for his wife to get in the way of her comfort of happiness.

Anne nodded and made a move to kiss him, not wanting him to think she was weak or afraid. He moved his hands underneath her gown and positioned himself on top of her, flinging it off as gently as he could. "My wife, at last," he whispered amidst their kissing.

Anne could tell he was hesitating, not wanting to consummate until she was ready. He was kissing every part of exposed flesh, yet his nightshirt stayed on and he made no move to finish the deed. "Henry, I love you," she whispered, her voice infused with passion, "I can't wait much longer."

With a hungry smile, Henry dove in, as that was all the invitation he needed.

* * *

He couldn't remember the last time he visited Katherine's bed.

Arthur knew that he and his wife had shared a warm, loving marriage, uncommon for most people of their rank and station. Yet, since he had caught the sweat when he was a teen, he had never been the same health wise. The everyday matters of a king were tiring for him, mentally and physically exhausting. He never went hunting with his brother and once Katherine had her last miscarriage, he hardly visited his wife for pleasure.

Seeing Henry and Anne get married made him get a twinge of longing for a night of passion and romance, one that he didn't recall having since he was first declared King. Being the most powerful man in England made him feel alive and powerful, and he wanted nothing more than to posses his wife on that night. However, that novelty ran out after Flodden, when kingship began to feel more like a burden than a blessing. Unfortunately, carnal pleasures were the first thing to go.

He could still hear the raucous laughing from his isolated spot in the hallway, yet he knew his wife wouldn't be there. She didn't appear out in public unless she had to; Mary's death had still left an impression, a void which would never be filled.

This was part of the reason he wanted to visit her so badly tonight, as well as his own personal longing. He wanted to see his wife truly smile again, and he wanted to be the one to put it there.

They had their differences, mostly over matters concerning Henry. However, in the end, Henry had prevailed and gotten his wish, and Katherine seemed contented at the wedding. She toasted merrily to their health and for Anne's fertility, and Arthur couldn't be more proud of her change of heart. He felt he had to reward her somehow, hence why he was walking in the middle of the night, bound for her rooms, alone.

He entered without knocking, something he rarely did anymore, but used to do. Maria was the only one attending her, as the other ladies were all celebrating the marriage of the Duke of York, with their mistress' permission. She looked mildly shocked to see him, but yet she curtsied and announced his arrival, as she had always done in all the years Arthur knew her. "My lady, the King is here."

"Thank you Maria, you may leave us now. Enjoy yourself," Katherine commanded as a light, playful smile lit across her face, directed towards her favorite lady who rarely had fun do to her vigilant service. She then turned her attention towards Arthur, trying not to reveal the shock value of him being here. "Arthur, darling, what is the matter?" Katherine asked, assuming that he had visited her because something had happened.

Instead of answering her, he lifted her off the chair and placed a hard kiss on her lips. "Your husband missed you," he replied once he had released her, still breathless from his kiss. "That's the matter."

Katherine allowed herself to giggle and released the twist that was holding up her hair. She was already dressed her nightgown and she did not protest when Arthur, in a rare move of strength, threw her on bed that she had so often shared with no one in the best couple years and began to kiss her.

No matter the external changes, whether it be marriage or death, Katherine believed their love for each other would always be constant.

_I hated how long that chapter took to make it to you guys- but I'm pleased with the way it turned out. I wanted to end with Katherine/Arthur action because a) I feel as though I've rejected them and b) I think that Anne and Henry's wedding would have brought back memories of how young and in love those two used to be. So yeah, I hope you enjoyed the wedding, and I hope I didn't make it too cheesy. Again, sorry for the delay, next time I promise it will take less time. In the meantime, don't forget to review! _


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed last chapter! I'm glad that you all enjoyed it, and the amount of reviews I have is amazing. Also thanks to those who favorited/alerted last story as well, very kind of you!

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;]

Without further ado, I present the next installment. Don't forget to review, and I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_May 4, 1524_

"Jane Parker has left your household this morning, your majesty; her father said her services were no longer required," Maria announced to her mistress, who was busying herself with needlework, probably with one of her husband's shirts, a task she had always taken upon herself since she was crowned Queen, despite the fact that there were plenty of seamstresses available. Since Mary had died, Katherine seemed to be making more, in order to occupy her time, and this morning was no different.

Katherine paused a few moments, waiting until her last stitch was threaded until looking up and speaking to her friend, "That's the fourth one this week. I highly doubt all of them are getting married," she theorized. Many of her ladies, especially the younger and unmarried ones, were leaving her household at an alarming rate. She had always felt badly that she had not played the role of a traditional Queen in terms of finding her ladies husbands quickly as mother-in-law had, but it had never seemed to bother their fathers before.

"Forgive me, my lady, perhaps it is not my place to say this but the Duchess of York has begun to set up her household at Hampton Court..." Maria began, before she was cut off.

"What household? I thought their graces were still here at court, and had plans to stay here for the foreseeable future" Katherine replied, more sharply than she had intended. She was careful to refer to both Anne and Henry by their proper titles, as her other ladies were still in the room with her. She pulled Maria aside, carelessly allowing Arthur's shirt to fall on the chair she was sitting at. She pulled the curtain for her private chamber, for some semblance of privacy, although she had no doubt the others were listening. "Who gave them Hampton Court?" Katherine asked.

"Cardinal Wolsey, as a wedding gift. Your majesty did not know that?" Maria questioned, surprised. It was well-known that Wolsey supported his former pupil's marriage to the Lady Anne, now the Duchess of York, and that he had given him his grand palace at Hampton as a gift. Even King Arthur had mentioned it a few times.

"No, I was unaware," Katherine replied, worry creeping into her voice. How could Arthur have neglected to tell her something so important?

"When did they leave for Hampton?" Katherine asked, wondering if it did have correlation to the four ladies who had left her service that week. Surely Anne did not hold that much of a clout for all of them to forsake the service of their Queen? Before Maria had mentioned it, Katherine was not unduly concerned about the loss of a few of her younger maids, who would surely be replaced with time, or so she had thought.

If all of them were leaving to attend Anne, the power shift was an uncomfortable realization for Katherine, one she did not want to face.

"The day before May Day, your majesty. They wished to get settled then have a celebration. I had no idea you were unaware," Maria explained. Usually her mistress took it upon herself to know every detail of what was happening, surely something this large was not overlooked. Maria assumed that Katherine had forgotten, because her mistress always took it upon herself to know every detail of the affairs that took place in England, via her husband, whose reports she almost demanded to hear.

"But I am still the Queen! I was born of the greatest monarchs of Christendom; she's a knighted courtier's daughter!" The words came spilling out of Katherine's mouth before she could stop them, before she realized that she'd broken her promise to Arthur, they flew out, too late for her to catch them. She peaked out the curtains separating her bedchamber, the only place where she could be alone, to the outer chamber where her ladies were preoccupied with something else. Katherine breathed a sigh of relief, glad that they had long since forgotten her conversation and that only her trusted Maria had heard the words that would upset the balance of things if Anne or Henry, or any of their allies ever caught wind of them.

Now that she had gain Arthur's full love and devotion back after so many years alienated from each other, she wasn't going to let Anne, Henry, or anybody else trivial ruin one of her last joys in life. She had failed to provide England with an heir of her blood, she had failed to cement an alliance with her family, and she had failed to be a submissive traditional wife to her gracious husband. Most telling, she had lost her futile fight against Henry, to keep him away from the throne; the throne that she always thought would make her the happiest.

Mary was her hope, and even if she could not accept it, Mary was gone. It had taken her months to even cope with the idea that her precious princess, the child who brought so much joy to her life, would never be near her again, not in the earthy sense. She tried to get Arthur to commiserate with her, but he was still the King, childless or not, and he had things to do. During those months that she mourned, Arthur began to secure Henry's position as heir, which Katherine could understand. Her husband was, if not anything more, a realist and she respected and admired that about him.

Arthur was aware that the chances of them conceiving another healthy child were slim to none, and he was conscious that Henry was unseasoned, and he needed a proper education, which Katherine did not argue with about. She had come to love her adopted country of England, and wanted only the best monarch to rule. If her own child could not rule, she wanted someone able and fit for the throne to take over Arthur's legacy, the one that she had helped him build from Henry VII's miserly realm into a golden world. Katherine understood that he felt the same way, and that he needed to focus his attentions on Henry, as hard as that was for her to accept.

Anne was really the only thing that was a problem with Katherine, at least at first. She was unfit to become the Duchess of York, even if Henry was head over heels in love with her Katherine did not approve of the match. But then Mary died, and Henry was making threats that he would marry nobody else but Anne, something that would be dangerous for the kingdom. As much as she hated to admit it, Arthur had made the right choice in keeping Henry away from the church, because now Henry needed to secure the next line of Tudor monarchs. Katherine had learned to accept it, even if it met bolstering a girl she knew little about to become the next Queen of England.

She did not begrudge Anne personally; she was a kind enough girl, intelligent and pleasing company, and Katherine could see how she enchanted someone like Henry. She was not bitter about the appeal of Henry and Anne as a couple either; she understood how two young attractive people would draw naturally a great deal of supporters who fell in love with the idea of a whimsical romance. Lastly, despite their differences, she truly wanted Henry to be happy, even if it meant being married to someone who Katherine did not think was worth it.

The problem Katherine had with Anne, and was still having, had nothing to do with her personality, but with the clout of influence she was slowly created, undermining her own. She could see now, now that she wasn't affected by her maternal instinct to protect her daughter, that Anne was not purposely drawing support to her own banner in order to slowly diminish Katherine's influence, but all that mattered to Katherine was that it was happening.

What Wolsey did was unforgivable, and he needed to know that.

Katherine had no doubt that Henry would mold Hampton Court into a mirror of Whitehall's own court, but only it would be filled with all of his youthful supporters. Her ladies' fathers already had began to realize that being in Katherine's household would not be as advantageous as being in Anne's, and Katherine had no doubt that she would have kept most of these servants if Wolsey had not given Henry and Anne their own estate.

If Henry and Anne had stayed at court, when the royal family came out in public it would be clear that Anne was the third lady of the court, not the first. It would have been apparent that no matter what the future held, Katherine was still the Queen of England and Anne was still the Duchess of York- powerful, but not the most powerful. No matter what others privately thought, every time Katherine and Anne appeared together, Katherine would be the first recognized, as was proper, and every time her position would bolster that much more.

Wolsey had taken away that opportunity. At Hampton, Henry and Anne would be the lord and lady of the court, head of it all. Katherine or Arthur wouldn't be there to undermine their status, to outrank them. Nobody would be able to do that, and Katherine feared that it would look like England had two Queens and two Kings. They had worked too hard for that to happen, and Katherine wasn't going to let Wolsey get his way, because it was clear the only reason he gave them his beloved Hampton was so he could be on the amiable side of Henry when it came time for him to inherit.

She wouldn't let Wolsey, who was only as rich as he was because of Arthur, to sneak around and make overtures towards Henry and Anne to diminish the peace and stability she and Arthur had so careful constructed.

Arthur's chancellor had just died, and his successor was not yet named. Katherine knew that Arthur had made hints that Wolsey was at the top of the list of candidates. Katherine hadn't spoken to Arthur about his Lord Chancellor since the old man's death, but she knew that Arthur was naturally distrustful about wasteful spending and corruption amongst his ministers.

Wolsey was one of the richest men in the kingdom, mainly in part due to his position as the Archbishop of York, among other clerical positions, including papal legate. He was even considered as a potential Pope after the death of Pope Alexander. He held a monopoly over the church, and Katherine did not think he should also become Lord Chancellor, giving him uncontested power in certain secular cases.

She was sure once she logically pointed this all out to Arthur, he would agree.

"Maria, I have to go see the King. It is about a matter that is most urgent."

**

* * *

**

Hampton Court

Mary was so happy to finally be back where she belonged.

After spending over a year in forced exile in Yorkshire, living off the kindness of her mother-in-law and her brother, needless to say her pride was wounded. It was not to say that she did not enjoy her time with her husband, or regretted for even a moment that she had married him instead of the Emperor; however, living away from court in a country estate was not ideal for her. It was nice for the first few months to get away from it all, and she was thankful when she gave birth to her son Edward that it wasn't at court but in the fresh country air.

But after Edward was born, she began to feel restless. Being in an isolated estate with just her husband and son was not the way she was taught to live her life. As a child, she was raised to expect to govern a household of hundreds and to be the center of attention; not to live miles away from Whitehall and from her family's court. She was so relieved when she received a summon from Arthur, inviting her back for Henry's wedding. She would have hated to miss it.

She expected to continue her life before she ran off and married Brandon secretly, and she was sure that both Arthur and Katherine would forgive her and welcome her back into the royal family, along with her husband. She was sorely disappointed when Arthur told her that after the wedding she was welcome to stay at Whitehall, but he would not provide her with an allowance or with suitable rooms. Although she was forgiven, Arthur still intended to teach her a lesson and was not willing to treat her as she used to be.

The embarrassment that it would have caused her to live at court under ignoble circumstances would have been too much for Mary to bear. Henry was expected to take over as King after Arthur passed, and given her oldest brother's delicate health that day would come sooner than not, and now his prospects had totally changed. He was no longer shamed before the family as the spare heir, he was the heir. Her older sister Margaret, who she barely knew, was still living happily in Scotland, married to a man that she loved and acting as Regent for her young son until he came of age. Finally, Arthur was King, and was married to his Queen who he adored completely and without reservation. The people loved them, despite all that had happened and the two of them were happy together. All of the Tudors siblings were doing well, and Mary would have hated to be the one who was isolated and left away from the royal hub.

Her life in Yorkshire was a constant reminder of how far she had fallen. She had to oversee her son's nursery there, something that was difficult and that Charles hardly helped her with. They hardly had any servants, and her gowns were far shabbier than they were when she was a child. She wouldn't have said no to Arthur's invitation because she wasn't sure how long she could handle living in mediocrity when she was born to be a Tudor Princess. As hard as it would have been for her to live under less than luxurious standards, at least she would be a welcomed guest.

However, Henry saved her from having to live under Whitehall's roof less than what she was used to. He invited her to stay at Hampton, along with Charles, and promised that they would be honored residents. Henry had been very generous to them while they were in exile and Mary was sure that this was a step in the right direction. At Hampton, Mary was sure that she would finally be getting a steady allowance from Henry so she could start living the way that she used to be before she was shunned from her family. As well as that, Henry promised to establish a nursery at Hampton once Anne had their first child, which he confidently expected would be soon, and he already invited Edward to stay with him or her. Mary was glad to not have to run the nursery for much longer, and she was happy that Edward would be able to stay under the same roof.

"This is it, Charles. No more living as country squires," Mary whimsically expressed to her husband as pages lead them to their apartments. She was wearing her finest gown, one of the ones she was able to still fit into before her marriage, when she was still the beloved Princess of England instead of a shunned betrayer. Although she was still a delicate and petite woman, Edward's birth had given her curves she never had before, so many of her finer gowns from when she was younger and still lived at court no longer fit her the way they used to.

"When we go to pay our respects to Henry and to Anne, make sure her treat them with all due respect. Yes, he is your brother and he loves you dearly, but we haven't spoken to him in nearly a year. He's very protective over Anne's status, since the Queen was not very kind to her, so make sure you treat her as you would Henry," Brandon warned. He was happy to be back living with Henry, as he didn't know how much longer he could live in exile, and he wanted badly to revive their old friendship. However, he didn't want to ruin their chances and he certainly didn't want to offend his boyhood friend.

Mary simply nodded, not really listening to her husband's words. She was of much higher birth than Anne Boleyn, and they were about the same age. She was sure that Henry wouldn't have picked a snobbish bitch of a wife, and she was positive that Anne would be grateful to be in such an honored position in their family. "I'm very excited to see my mother again. I hardly got a chance to speak to her at the wedding," Mary expressed after a few moments of resigned silence, when it became awkward.

At Henry's wedding, nobody really paid much attention to her, not like they used to. Her mother spared her a hello and a hug, expressing how happy she was to see her, but most of the evening she was spent fussing over Anne, which was expected. Mary was sorry in that way that she couldn't have had a more public wedding like Henry did, but her marriage to Charles couldn't be any other way. Besides, it was Anne's wedding day, and her mother had died three years ago, so Mary did her best not to resent the poor girl, as Mary could not have imagined her life without her mother. She was sure now that she was at Hampton, her mother would be spending a lot of time with her, like they used to when she was a little girl, because she was so happy that Mary was back in her life.

The groom outside of Henry's door, once he was made aware of whom they were, let her and Charles in. Henry had told them that he wanted to greet them right away when they arrived, and Mary and Charles knew that it was best not to flaunt his request. He was basically going to rule over this palace like he was already King, so they knew it was in their best interests to cultivate his friendship. They were already a step ahead of everyone else, as Charles had known Henry longer than any of his other friends and Mary was his favorite sibling.

"Your graces," Mary and Charles said in unison as soon as they walked in and noticed that Henry and Anne were together, discussing something. Anne had a broad smile on her face and her flushed cheeks made it clear that she had been laughing. Charles could tell that Henry was truly happy now that he had gotten everything he ever wanted- his freedom away from Katherine, his own house, a beautiful wife, and in time, the throne.

"Charles! Mary! I'm so happy to see you both!" Henry exclaimed, motioning them both out of their bow and curtsy in order to give them both a hug. "You both look well. I trust you've been treating my sister right, Charles," Henry asserted in a mock-serious tone. He could tell by his sister's glow that she had a happy marriage. "How rude of me, allow me to present my wife, Anne Boleyn, the Duchess of York and Somerset, Countess of Kendal." Henry joyfully introduced his wife.

Anne stepped forward and held her hand out for the two of them to kiss, as Elizabeth had taught her to do when she was introduced to anybody. She looked at Henry for conformation and he nodded. "It's so lovely to meet you both. Welcome to Hampton," Anne said, motioning them out of their curtsy and bow like she watched Henry do moments before her. It was so daunting all of the protocol that was required of her now that she was royalty, but it was worth it to be with Henry.

"Forgive me, I wish we had more time, but Anne and I have a lot to do. Our household is still incomplete, and it needs to be filled. Make yourselves comfortable, walk around and explore our court. Wolsey spared no expense in building this palace," Henry dismissed them genially as he could, knowing that they had a lot to catch up on but he knew that their household was much more important. There would be plenty of time for small talk in the future, he was sure of it.

Mary and Charles left and headed for Elizabeth of York's rooms. Even if Henry and Anne had little free time, Mary hoped that she could talk once more to her mother, as she hadn't had a proper conversation with her in nearly a year.

"The Dowager Queen is with her grace at the moment. They are selecting candidates for her grace's household," one of Elizabeth's ladies informed Mary at the door.

Mary was able to hold her smile in order to thank the lady and turn around without making a scene. As soon as she turned away, however, her face slowly morphed into a frown. She tried to cheer up on the walk back to her rooms, and Charles tried to make conversation, but it was to no avail. She had hoped it would be different at Hampton, that she would be welcomed back with open arms. There wasn't even a banquet in her honor, welcoming her back into the royal family. Henry hardly had a minute to spare for her; he was too busy with his wife planning out their household. Her mother had to have known she was coming back today, yet she choose to spend time with Anne instead.

It was no different than before. She still felt like an outsider, she still felt unimportant.

And it was all Anne's fault.

* * *

_One Day Later_

"I hope the meal is to your liking, sweetheart. I know we haven't had much time to ourselves lately," Henry began as soon as he and his newlywed wife were left alone to dine.

Since they had moved into Hampton, he felt like both of them had hardly had time to breath. So much had to be done to make Hampton into the court that both of them dreamed of, to rival Arthur's in every way possible, Henry didn't expect it to be so much work. However, he took it in stride, and for about two weeks they had worked very diligently to set everything up. Every person they wanted living with them was invited, all of Anne's ladies were picked and on their way, and most of the menial servants, such as the cooks, were already in place from Wolsey's time.

Henry knew it was worth it in the end, but he still felt guilty that he hadn't spent enough time with Anne. They were newlyweds after all, and they had been reduced to eating separately- Anne usually with his mother who was helping pick her household and Henry with his friends whenever he got the chance.

However, tonight was different. He had commissioned a special meal be prepared and he dismissed everyone. It was just he and Anne, the way it should be, at least for a few hours. And after the meal, he had a surprise for her, one he thought she please her.

"Henry, it's wonderful. We've both been busy, but really, I couldn't ask for a better way to start our marriage," Anne explained. Despite the fact that she only spent time with him at night, as they had a passionate relationship there, she wasn't concerned about it turning strictly sexual. This special dinner that Henry had made just for her showed her that he cared about her as a person, not just as an object of his own lust.

They ate in constant chatter. Anne was amazed on how much she wanted Henry to know about her, and how easy it was to open up to him. She had always expected to marry a cold, dour man that her father picked for her. But instead, she was married to a man only three years older than her, who she had always desired since she arrived at court, and Henry was as lively and passionate as she could have hoped for. It was almost like a fairytale for her, and it was hard to believe that as humbly born as she was, she was now the Duchess of York, the third lady in England, and lady of Hampton Court.

After the servants had the meal taken away, Anne expected that they would retire early, but Henry told her to stay still. "I have someone I want you to meet," Henry began.

The door into his apartments opened at a middle-aged woman holding a boy by the hand that was no more than three years old entered. The way the boy was dressed told Anne that he was of high-birth and status, or his parents were very rich and could afford to attire him well. "Who is he, Henry?" Anne asked, her curiosity spiked.

"This is my son, Lord Henry FitzYork. He'll be staying with us from now on," Henry explained, getting up from his chair and grabbing his son by the hand. He then knelt down to his level. "Hal, this is your new mama," he whispered in his ear, but loud enough for Anne to hear it.

Her mouth was agape in shock for a few moments longer than she would have liked. She was aware that Henry had a son; she remembered when it was the topic of debate at supper one evening with Queen Katherine. However, she always expected that Henry would leave his son at Eltham, as to not cause a scandal. She was shocked to see the boy, who bore a striking resemblance to Henry, standing before her with a scared look on his face.

_Your new mama_

Anne had not expected to hear that until she gave birth, which she was expected to do in at least a year's time. It was her primary duty as Henry's wife of course. However, nobody had ever warned her that she would have to act as a mother to Henry's bastard son before she actually had children, she didn't even consider the possibility of it. In fact, she had quite forgotten about Hal FitzYork's existence.

However, she imagined the boy was going through a hard time, and probably missed his mother Bessie Blount a great deal. Anne had lost a mother herself and understood how hard it was, and she couldn't imagine what it felt like for a young child to be motherless, left alone without the nurturing hand of a mother. She knew that Hal needed a mother in his life more so than most children, to deal with the stigma of being a bastard. It was not as if the boy would pose a threat to any of her children, who would naturally be accepted as legitimate heirs to Henry's duchies, and with God's help, the throne. It would be far more painful for the boy to be motherless than for Anne to accept him in his life and treat him well.

"Hello Hal, I've heard so much about you." A lie, of course. She imagined that Henry had purposely avoided the topic of his son in fear that it would make her jealous of the attention he gave to another woman's child. She made sure to speak to the boy in the kindest tone she knew. She was relieved when she saw him smile joyfully, as she knew children could not feign any emotion for the sake of diplomacy or politeness.

"I missed you papa," Hal said softly, hugging Henry once he felt comfortable enough too, as Henry had not moved from his spot by his son's side. Henry had felt bad for neglecting his son for as long as he did, but in the midst of his courtship with Anne and planning the wedding, he hadn't had time to make the trip to Eltham to visit his son, not even in celebration of his birthday. That's why he knew that he had to bring Hal to Hampton, so he could spend more time with him, so he made sure to set up a nursery. As well as that, he knew that Anne needed practice with children before they had some of their own.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry about your mama, but don't worry, this lady is your new mama now. It's just best to forget," Henry explained as gently as he could. It was better for everyone involved if Hal began to think of Anne as his mother, at least while he was still young. Details could be explained later, but Henry was just looking out for his son's happiness.

"That's right, Hal. I'm so happy that I get to be your new mama. We are going to be a family now," Anne replied, over her shock now. She knelt down beside her husband and Hal and put her arms around them both. "And I'm going to take good care of you," she whispered softly and breathed a sigh of relief when Hal placed his chubby arms around her neck and placed a kiss on her check.

_This isn't my best chapter, but I'm pleased with the way it turned out. A lot of it is setting up what's to come in future chapters, hence when it was so short compared to the last few chapters. I hope you all enjoyed it though, and caught onto some of the foreshadowing. Sorry it took me so long to update as well, I've had writers block like crazy. Hope you all enjoyed, don't forget to review and tell me what you thought of it :) _


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! Just wanted to thank everyone who took the time to read and review last chapter. Seriously, I cannot say this enough, the amount of support this story is getting is absolutely incredible and I cannot thank everyone who reads, reviews, favorites, and alerts this story. So thanks again :]

Another thanks to ReganX who always takes the time to brainstorm with me. She is such an awesome person for taking the time to help lil' old me.

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;] **Warnings: Smut. Shameless amounts of it. **(I feel it was lacking last chapter, too much tension, not enough loving.)

Without further ado, the next installment! As always, I hope you enjoy :)

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_June 28, 1524_

It had been like this for over a month now. He would come to her bed, have her, and stay the whole night. It wasn't that Katherine was complaining, no, on the contrary, it was wonderful to spend more time with Arthur, and she was enjoying herself. For too long their relationship had been on a decline, due to various disagreements, and Arthur's love was one of the few things Katherine still could call her own, so she grasped onto it with every fiber of her being. She was grateful that she was never going to lose her husband's affection, loyalty, and love.

It was just that she was slightly confused about his motives.

After her fifth miscarriage, two years after their darling Mary was born, Arthur had explained to Katherine that any more pregnancies could possibly damage her health or worse, kill her. As much as she tried to argue with him, claiming that she was willing to make that sacrifice, he assured her that Mary was good enough for him, and that he would work diligently to secure her position. The only other time that he considered it was when Mary became ill for the first time, but for all of their vain attempts, it was just wasn't enough. Arthur was too tired and could not come every night, thus, Katherine never fell pregnant again.

Ever since Henry and Anne wed, however, Arthur had come to her bed nearly every night. All of the sudden, he had a renewed desire and passion for her, one that she hadn't experienced since the early, blissful, years of their marriage and their reign. Never once had he strayed, as far as she knew, but yet he had just never felt the need to come to her bed, until recently.

She wasn't sure if he wanted another child, or if he was just doing it because he truly wanted to.

If he wanted another child, Katherine would be thrilled. She wanted so badly to see a child of her blood and his rule England, knowing that he, or she, would be the best possible monarch. She always believed that Henry was far too reckless for his own good, and as of right now, he was the heir to their England, the country that they had worked so hard to build into a wealthy and peaceful kingdom. Arthur had not been a miser like his father; as a result, the need to impose taxes on the commonwealth was unnecessary, thus earning their approval and loyalty. Even if he was not a miser, he was smart about his money. He never waged a war against a country for sport, and while the entertainments at court were impressive, they weren't lavish or overly expensive

Henry already seemed to have created a court of his own at Hampton, thanks to Wolsey's 'generosity.' More of her ladies left her service to vie for positions in Anne's household, and daily reports came from some of her own spies, planted at Hampton, that Henry and Anne had banquets, masques, and jousts as often as they possibly could.

Those reports confirmed Katherine's fears that if Henry ever got a hold of the throne, a possibility that became more real everyday that passed, he would spend all of the carefully saved wealth and drive the kingdom into desperate measures. He was such a lively boy, far more so than Arthur ever was, so she knew that the possibility of a foreign war was not one to be discredited if Henry ever became King. Her brother-in-law would probably be the type of monarch that would find excuse to engage in a war, and if it was ever against her home country or her family, she would feel personally responsible for not being able to prevent it.

So having another child would be the only way to prevent this, and Katherine wanted so badly to conceive again, even if it killed her. It wasn't as if Arthur couldn't remarry. Her husband was such a sensitive man in private, and she knew that he loved her very much, and would hate to lose her. And it wasn't as if Katherine had a death wish, but she knew that fear of death was not an excuse to shrink away from her duties as Queen.

If Arthur was coming to her because he simply desired her as any other husband desired a wife, she couldn't bring herself to become disappointed. She was happy that her husband loved her; it was certainly more than she ever expected growing up. Her life with Arthur, though speckled with sadness and hardship, was wonderful. Every challenge and argument they ever had made them become stronger as a couple, until they formed a bond that couldn't be broken. Katherine didn't think that the love she felt for her husband could even come close she had for any other person in the world, save for her late daughter Mary. Not even her sainted mother, who she revered in all things despite the fact that Isabella was far from perfect, could even compare to the love she felt for her Arthur.

Arthur was still handsome, as he was young, only 29. They had ruled England for eleven years together, and been married for fourteen. She was happy that although she was two years older than him, with a body that had grown thicker of the years due to miscarriages and stress, that he still found her attractive. Her marriage to Arthur, in terms of happiness and love, was the one success Katherine could always count on.

When she was with him, she felt like she had succeeded as Queen of England.

She was drawn out of her thoughts when Arthur groaned and rolled over, the sun now peaking through the tapestry of her windows. His eyelids slowly peered open, and his face morphed into a smile as Katherine curled up close to him, her head resting on his bare chest, her hair cascaded across it. "Go away sun," she heard him mutter, and she laughed quietly.

"Come now, Arthur, it is no trouble. We don't have to be up yet," Katherine suggested with a hint of mischief in her voice as she trailed her finger down his stomach. It was a Saturday morning, and Katherine had always given her maids extra time to sleep on Saturdays, as she herself liked to sleep in occasionally. This morning, however, she had awoken early, her mind racing with thoughts about Arthur, and she was unable to go to sleep.

"Again? I don't think I can, last night was too much," Arthur teased, gathering her once again into his arms and kissing the top of her head. "I'm content just like this."

Katherine stayed quiet for a few moments, enjoying the comfortable silence of his breathing. Everything was always so busy, moments like that were so rare. Eventually, as it always did, her curiosity got the best of her, and she had to ask. "Arthur, darling, is there a reason you have begun to visit me more at night?" she asked bluntly, and seeing the confused and almost hurt expression on his face, she hastened to reassure him. "It is not that I do not enjoy it, on the contrary, it's been awhile that I've been able to feel so alive. It's just, Mary's been dead for a year," she paused, catching the sobs that rose in her throat every time she mentioned her daughter's name. "And I thought... perhaps it was time to..." she was cut off.

"You think I want another child?" Arthur asked, trying so hard to keep his voice neutral although internally all he could feel was shock. He had always done his best to assure Katherine that he was quite content with whatever heir ended up taking over the kingdom, as he was sure that anybody could be trained to become a monarch with royal blood flowing through their veins. He was more than happy to bolster Mary's position, despite her being a female, and he had intended to do the same for Henry.

He loved Katherine, and did not want to cause her further pain. He knew that it was his fault that their children were so unhealthy and all but one had died in the womb, not even strong enough to be born alive. He would never dream of pressuring Katherine into a lost cause, in fear that her health and happiness would be damaged.

Unbidden, the thought of the last miscarriage she had came into his mind.

"_He was so beautiful, Arthur. He would have been the living image of you," Katherine muttered, her words slurred. Linacre had given her the strongest tonic available in order to dull the pain and his wife's words were wistful and dreamy, almost as if she was completely disconnected from reality. The sound of maids scrubbing the bloody sheets was a distant chatter but Arthur looked over and his stomach churned at the sight of the pool of blood mixed with dirty water at the bottom of the wash basin. "I'm so sorry I could not give you a son." _

_He sharply turned his head back to focus on his wife, her eyes clouded with unshed tears. Even though she had gone through a hellish ordeal, his Katherine always managed to stay strong, never daring to show signs of weakness. "Katherine," he began, although he was at a loss for words. He felt sad and disappointed, as was natural, but it was not towards her. How could he, when he knew she had done her best? "There is always next time, my love, do not fret," he assured her, rubbing her hair and kissing her forehead, both of which were drenched in sweat. _

"_Your majesty, may I speak with you, in private?" Dr. Linacre came up behind Arthur, bowing respectful before asking a question, fearing that he had interrupted an important conversation between the King and Queen. He was always impressed with the King's behavior after finding out his wife had miscarried, knowing how badly the royal couple desired a prince, the entire country along with them. _

_Arthur nodded and followed the good doctor, bracing himself for the usual conversation after Katherine had miscarried. Linacre was always able to spare him an optimistic smile but today Arthur could tell that something was amiss. "I am aware that the child was a male," Arthur began, knowing how uncomfortable Linacre was with starting a conversation with his sovereign about a matter of such a personal nature. _

"_There were no signs of deformity, your majesty, he was just not simply ready to enter this world, as most of the Queen's fetuses have been, with the exception of Princess Mary, who is a credit to your majesties," Linacre embellished, hoping to soften the harsh blow he was about to deliverer. "The Queen had a hard time, your majesty; she lost consciousness more than once. It is my belief that if the Queen conceives any more children, she will suffer permanent damage to her internal organs, possibly even suffer death." _

_Arthur turned around to look at his wife, her face pale and drawn out from the hard birth. He couldn't imagine putting her through such an ordeal, not again, not ever again. "The Queen's safety is my chief concern, Dr. Linacre." _

Impulsively, Arthur held onto his wife tighter, remembering the pain he felt when he heard he could have lost her. Nothing in the world was worth such a loss, although it was contrary to how he was raised, how he was taught to behave as a monarch. Emotions, his father had once told him, always got in the way of governance. Arthur remembered how pale and sickly his mother looked after birth, how tired she always appeared to be. He would never wish that fate upon Katherine, he loved her far too much to treat her, and her precious life, so coldly and disposable.

Katherine was concerned by his blank stare and his iron grasp on her, so she felt the need to speak, to drag him out of the dark place his mind was entering. "It's just that I have lost most of whatever part of me was once physically beautiful, it was unconceivable for me to believe that you would desire me for me. Forgive me for asking," Katherine explained, feeling embarrassed and regretful that she had brought up such a delicate subject when they were enjoying a nice morning together.

"Katherine, you are the most beautiful woman in this kingdom. I don't have eyes for anyone but you," Arthur hastened to reassure her. He would hate to think that she was anything but confident about her beauty in his eyes. While she wasn't a traditional English beauty, like Bessie Blount, Henry's erstwhile mistress, or even like his own sister, he couldn't imagine seeking physical release with a mistress. Although Katherine had amassed quiet a few laugh lines, or frown lines since her life had not been an easy one, he could still see his young bride from all those years ago, whose beauty was praised by ambassadors and even his own dour father.

Katherine looked down shyly, her checks aflame. Arthur lifted her chin up, so her eyes were staring directly into his. "These lines across your face," Arthur stopped a moment and traced his finger across a deep line that had formed over time, despite the fact that his wife was a mere 31 years old, still young enough to bare children but not as safe and easily as before. "They tell the story of our life together," Arthur explained, his tone anything but disgusted.

"I don't quite understand," Katherine stated, touched by his sentiments but unaware of what he was getting at.

"This line right here," Arthur traced another finger across it, "is from when you left home and I was cruel to you. The one next to it is from when I got the sweat. Another one, right there," Arthur moved his hand, "was when my grandmother called us back to court and chided you for your influence." Katherine managed a smile at that one, thinking of how much she oversaw now. "That one is from when I was gone for three years, learning everything from my father." Arthur still continued to trace as he spoke, his memory jogging every event that could have caused Katherine to prematurely wrinkle. "The battle of Flodden is right here. Your first miscarriage is right there. Mary's birth is this laugh line, right here, across your very desirable mouth," Arthur paused to kiss his wife. "And her death faded it," he said when he pulled away, wiping the tears that were now falling from his wife's face.

"Where did the time go?" Katherine asked rhetorically, amazed at how much they had been through, and completely touched by his recognition. When he shook his head in disbelief, she felt the need to explain her insecurities to him. "Henry and Anne were so beautiful on their wedding day, so young and vibrant. I remember a time when we were them, when the future of a kingdom rested solely on our backs. We were so ready to take the challenge then; we believed that we would create another Camelot, the envy of all of the other royal courts."

"Is this not Camelot, my love?" Arthur asked. While the future that they had dreamed of as newlyweds, before reality hit them hard and fast, was not the life that they were living now, Arthur could not say that it had all been a failure. "We are the example of marriage to every English man and woman. We did not love each other when we married but look at us now, we couldn't be happier, despite all of the tragic things that have befallen. We have survived, and emerged, stronger than before," Arthur explained.

Katherine looked around her room for a moment. The rich tapestries, the gowns hanging in her closet, and the mere size of the room, were everything she had dreamed of as a young princess when she would finally become Queen of England, the promise made to her when she was five years old. The thought of loving her husband was never in her mind when she was young and naive. But the man lying next to her was, she believed, a gift from God, in His kindness. He brought them together, they were meant to be.

"It is indeed Camelot, my love. What else could it be?"

* * *

**Hampton Court**

Cardinal Wolsey, a man who once thought himself as an indispensable asset to Kings, had never felt so defeated in his life as he walked through the gates of the estate he once called his own; the estate that had been his downfall.

He was so shocked when King Arthur gave the position of the Lord Chancellor to Sir Thomas More. More was a good man, suitable for the job, but he was an extremely private man and only accepted because his loyalty to the King prevented him refusing. Wolsey was certain that the position would be his, after all the work he had put in while Arthur's Lord Chancellor was ill. More had lived at his estate in Chelsea, quietly devoting time to writing and such pursuits, while Wolsey was living at court, working diligently to service the King.

Ever since King Arthur was coroneted, Wolsey had worked his way up to his Privy Council, along with the title of Archbishop of York, even deserting his once-treasured position as the tutor to the Duke of York, who was still destined for the church in those days. Although he was fonder of the Duke of York, and had always thought he was far more suitable to be King than the sickly and solemn Prince of Wales, at the time everyone else in the kingdom was assured that Queen Katherine would produce a male heir within a year or so, and that the Tudor line would continue through King Arthur, not through his brother. Wolsey saw no other choice than to quickly resign his position as Henry's tutor and find a way to service King Arthur.

He was so confident that when the position freed up, he would become the Lord Chancellor, finally working his way up from the ignoble son of a butcher into one of the highest levels of English government. Along with Lord Chancellor, the highest secular office he could ever hope to achieve, Wolsey was also papal legate, meaning that in his future he could become Pope, the Bishop of Rome. If he had King Arthur's help, that could have happened.

A month ago, however, King Arthur decided to appoint Sir Thomas More as Lord Chancellor. He didn't even explain why Wolsey was overlooked, and he wouldn't accept or answer any of Wolsey's letters. He had not spoken to King Arthur since a week before he was overlooked, and at that time he could see no signs of ill-intent coming from the amiable King of England. He was just as friendly and genial as before, and Wolsey felt optimistic at that time about his prospects.

What changed? It took Wolsey nearly a month to figure it out, but then one day it dawned on him.

The Queen had always disliked him.

It was such a simple answer, and he could almost kick himself for overlooking the very influential Queen of England. When she started to become suspicious of Henry, shortly after her daughter was born and not as well received as she would have liked, Queen Katherine had also begun to despise Wolsey. He was well aware that the Queen saw him as a dangerous ally to the French; someone that could somehow poison her husband's mind against her native country in favor of an alliance with France. As much as Wolsey would have liked that, and tried to get King Arthur to listen to him, it was never to any avail. He also favored an alliance with the Emperor, although he assured Wolsey that he had no ill-intent towards King Francis.

It wasn't just that, Wolsey knew the final nail in the coffin was his gift of Hampton Court to the Duke and Duchess of York as a wedding present. He played it off as a harmless gift to everyone else around him, even King Arthur had bought the fact that Wolsey was simply giving it to him in celebration of his former pupil's wedding.

However, Wolsey purposely did it while Queen Katherine was still mourning for her daughter, so she would be unaware and therefore unable to turn King Arthur against him before he received the Lord Chancellorship. He also did it so when Henry became King someday, as Wolsey was certain would happen, he would think kindly of his former tutor and not ill against his brother's Lord Chancellor. Wolsey never thought that it would lose him any sort of a favor, and he figured it was a win-win.

He overlooked Katherine of Aragon's intelligence and shrewd mind, as well as her influence over her husband. Wolsey had thought it faded when King Arthur provided for little Henry FitzYork, Henry's bastard son, despite the Queen's protests. When Arthur allowed for Henry and Anne to get married, even though Queen Katherine had proposed many of her unmarried nieces, Wolsey was sure that it was surely broken all together, and that the King had finally become his own man, no longer relying heavily on his wife's opinion or judgment.

However, there was no other rational conclusion he could come up with. King Arthur was not a man with a changeable or irrational nature, and neither was his wife. She had always hated Wolsey, and finally it had some affect. Sir Thomas More, a friend of the Queen's as well as the King's, was Lord Chancellor and Wolsey was left with nothing but the bitter taste of almost having it all.

Well, he hadn't lost everything exactly, he thought as he headed his way down to The Duke of York's private chambers. Henry had summoned Wolsey ahead of time, before he even was allowed to settle into his suite of apartments. Wolsey was so happy when Henry invited him to stay at Hampton for the foreseeable future, hoping that even if had failed with this King and Queen, Henry and Anne would welcome him and see when the time came for them to rule, Wolsey would be a useful asset. He was sure that King Arthur didn't have many years left, and Henry and Anne were healthy and would surely rule for many years.

And when Henry embraced him upon his arrival; apologizing for whatever part he may have played in the loss of Wolsey's assured position, and inviting him to his birthday celebrations that night, Wolsey knew that he had made the right decision.

He always knew Henry would be something special, and that the gateway to the future was through him- never through Arthur.

* * *

Mary used to like her sibling's birthday celebrations.

When she was a child, her father, despite his miser reputation, would never spare an expense for the celebrations of his two princes' birthdays. While she never remembered anybody at court making any particular notice of her birthday, besides her mother who would always make up for the fact that a princess' birthday was not something to be celebrated like her two brothers; her father took great pride in his two sons and was not ashamed to let the whole kingdom know that his two heirs were healthy and sound.

Mary knew if she were still a child, she would enjoy Henry's celebration tonight. Her brother, in his first breath of a freedom away from the prying eyes of Arthur's court, used his great deal of amassed wealth to show his court, which was growing by the day, that living at Hampton was preferable to living at Whitehall. Earlier that day, there were jousts and a masquerade put together. Henry had jousted and been the male lead in the masque and his wife had been the female one.

Nobody had even asked Mary to join, despite the fact that she was a Princess of England! She was only saved from embarrassment at the joust because her husband rode the lists and requested her favor.

Henry had promised her this was going to be better, but it wasn't. It was like she didn't even exist anymore.

When her dear Charles rode up to her at the joust earlier that afternoon, looking strikingly handsome in his armor, Mary felt a glimmer of hope rise in her chest. She had hoped that all of those watching would see that just like Henry and Anne; she and Charles were young and attractive. Like Henry, Mary had taken a risk and married a commoner for love despite the fact that she was a royal and could have become the Holy Roman Empress. She had hoped that they would find some kind of fairytale appeal in her marriage, like they had in Henry's.

Instead, nobody seemed to pay much notice to the fact that she and Charles were even out of exile. Nobody had come to her chambers, seeking an audience in hopes of gaining her brother's favor by gaining her friendship. After Henry's initial delight, he hadn't done much else to show his court that Mary was once again in favor, and just as much the Princess she was before she married Charles. He hadn't given her a pension or even so much as a welcome back banquet. To be fair, he did give her a note for two thousand crowns, far more money than Mary was used to seeing lately, so she may attire herself properly.

Not even her mother had paid a special notice to the fact that Mary was back from her year-long confinement in the country. She had come to Mary's apartments once, paying complimentary respects to her once favorite daughter and even acknowledging and kissing Charles, like he was part of the family now. She had congratulated Mary on the birth of her son Edward, and expressed delight that he was soon to come to Hampton to share a nursery with Hal FitzYork and any future child of Henry's.

However, after those pleasantries were exchanged, her mother had not come back to see her in private, not even to dine, like Mary had requested many times since she had been living at Hampton. However, she heard many of the courtiers speaking when she went out for walks about how wonderful it was that the Duchess of York and the Dowager Queen were getting along so well, and spending so much time together. That caused Mary pain in the deepest sense; when she was younger, she remembered how much time her mother would devote to Mary's upbringing and education. It really hurt to see how little she now cared, all because Mary had followed her heart and married someone who truly cared for her, someone who she would enjoy growing old with.

Tonight, Mary felt a fresh bout of shame as she walked into the Great Hall at Hampton. Two years ago, she would have been walking just a pace behind her mother and only two paces behind Queen Katherine into Whitehall's Great Hall, unless her late niece was there, then she would be the fourth lady at court. She could almost remember how many of the courtiers remarked what a beauty she was, and how much she favored her mother. She could have been the only woman at court in those days.

Now, a stressful union, exile, and a child later, Mary could hear those same remarks, only they were directed towards her sister-in-law. Anne was the first lady at court, per Henry's insistence, and as such, the most richly attired of any other woman present. Nobody could deny that Anne was a beautiful woman, not even Mary herself amidst all of her jealously could deny that she had a certain charm, but Mary still thought that Anne had chosen her most flashy of gowns as to steal attention away from Mary and every other person at court.

Anne had made no great overtures towards Mary either, nor did she seem over-awed that she was back from exile. Despite the fact that Mary was higher born than Anne, and only a few months younger than Anne; Anne had acted, in Mary's opinion, very haughtily towards her, as if Mary owed her a great deal of respect instead of the other way around! Anne had not made any attempt to befriend Mary, and was too wrapped up in her own damn stardom to notice or consider Mary's unhappiness and discomfort. She had probably diverted Henry and her mother's attention away from Mary on purpose, using both of them to suit her own desires as opposed to helping Mary, who had been put-out for nearly a year, shut away from her own family for marrying for love, as Anne and Henry had done!

In fact, as far as Mary was concerned, Anne should be thanking her instead of disrespecting her like she was! Before Henry had fallen madly in love with Anne, Mary had outwitted Katherine and married Charles before anyone could reasonably put a stop to it. If Mary had not done it, in effect, paved the way for Henry, then Anne may not have the glittering court before her and the grand title she received by marrying Henry. Anne would probably have married some low-life courtier and slipped away into obscurity if it wasn't for Mary daring to breach tradition by marrying for love instead of position.

It simply wasn't fair! Mary had done the same thing as Anne and Henry, but yet Arthur was willing to give them their blessing, and people were bowing at their feat at one of England's finest palaces. People were forsaking the service of both Arthur and Katherine in order to vie for positions in Anne and Henry's households, and Anne was acting like it was her God-given right to all of this wealth, prestige, and power.

Mary, from her spot at the front dais, looked over at Anne as she wittily bantered with a courtier who had presented an expensive gift to Henry. She truly acted like she was Queen already, her conceited and confident laughing ringing in Mary's ears like the screams of an annoying child. Henry and Anne had gotten everything they could have ever dreamed of, even though they had upset Katherine just as much as Mary had; yet, Mary was stuck scrapping at the bottom of the royal hierarchy, barely getting by.

Truly, what upset Mary the most, and caused her the most sleepless nights, was that everything Anne had; could have, and should have, been hers.

* * *

At the end of the longest and most entertaining birthday Henry had ever experienced, the last thing on his mind was visiting Anne that night. He was physically and mentally exhausted, and had a feeling that his pride would be wounded by being unable to pleasure Anne.

However, during the celebration, Anne had leaned over and whispered to him that she was most anxious for him to visit that night. The seductive tone she had adopted when she told him that she had saved the best gift for last was enough to convince Henry that no matter how tired he may have felt, it would be worth it to stay up a few extra hours that evening.

He was hastily allowed entrance into his wife's apartments as soon as he arrived, the dim candlelight teasing his eyelids to sleep. He forced to stay open, remembering Anne's words that night and the force she had said them with.

"_I have another gift for your grace, tonight. I have saved the best for last." _

"Henry." He turned around to see Anne, dressed her nightclothes, her hair loose and her face containing a certain glow. She was standing upright however and was not lying on the bed like he had expected.

"You said you had a gift for me," he replied, his patience growing thin. However, his voice showed no signs of impatience and his face was morphed into a pleasant smile, the smile he usually favored her with. Anne had already presented him with a wonderful golden goblet, the finest one he was sure money could buy. He had no idea what else she could give him that would overshadow what she already had- true happiness and freedom.

"I do," she gleefully replied, almost giddily. She had a sense of confidence that night that she had never experienced in her life before. It must have been the overwhelming reception she had received from the court that was growing at Hampton. Everyone seemed to have warmly welcomed her, and sung her praises quite readily. It was as if she had feared needlessly.

She had to tell Henry the good news tonight, in fear that this confidence she was experiencing would turn into insecurity again. She was even able to ignore the uneasy vibes she was getting from Henry's sister Mary, pushing them into the back of her mind and resolving to discuss them with Henry another day. For now, she had to focus on her marriage and the very happy news she was about to give him.

"What is it, my love?" Henry asked, forcing himself to be patient. He moved closer to her and kissed her deeply, grasping a fistful of her flowing dark hair into his hand, loving the way it felt. He scooped her into his arms before she could protest and started moving towards her bed, his passionate yet tender kisses never ceasing.

She placed a gentle hand on his chest, causing him to stop his assault on her face for a moment. "I am with child. Our first child," she gravely told him, an overwhelming smile accompanying her words. He gently placed her feet back on the ground, his mouth agape in shock and delight. She took one of his large hands into her petite one and placed it on her stomach, which was still flat, but it had the desired effect. "Our baby is in there. We created a life. Can you believe it?"

All he could do was laugh and sweep her into a giant bear hug; unable to believe how blessed a man he was.

_That's it for this chapter- I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm not sure what to think of it yet; I just know it took me forever to figure out what to put in here. I hope the Arthur/Katherine scene wasn't too cheesy; I actually stole the whole "the lines tell the story of our life" thing from _Desperate Housewives _if anybody thought they recognized it. It just touched me a lot, so I felt the extreme need to incorporate it into Arthur and Katherine's marriage. There wasn't a lot of dialogue in this chapter, which I hope didn't bother anyone too much. I just didn't think it needed much. And, last note here, I have obliviously drastically changed the birth date of Henry and Anne's first child, because this is AU and I felt like it :) Next chapter, Anne will finally feel Mary's coolness in person and also some Anne V. Katherine stuff, not too extreme though. Anyway, please let me know what you thought! Reviews make me happy :)_


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone and welcome back to King Arthur II! Thanks so much for all of the reviews from last chapter, every new chapter I post gets more and more reviews from the previous one, and it's such a great feeling. Every positive review I get makes my day, seriously =) I just got back from cheer camp, so sorry this update is coming a little late. I've been swamped with getting ready for the school year lately as well. **By the way, a little note, if I didn't make this clear last chapter, when Anne told Henry she was pregnant, she was already about a month along =)**

Most of the ideas in this chapter were inspired by **ReganX**, so a huge thank you to her and all of the help she's given me.

Without further ado- since I've kept you waiting for so long- Chapter Twenty Nine!

* * *

**Hampton Court**

_August 24, 1524_

"Arthur has developed a desire to visit us, and to see what we've done with the place." Henry didn't appear bothered by his own statement to the untrained eye, but Anne knew him better than that. Despite the fact that she had been a wave of emotions since the beginning of the month, due to her pregnancy, which Elizabeth had assured her was normal, especially for her first child; she could still tell when her husband was displeased. His usually handsome face had twisted into the slightest form of a scowl and his blue eyes gleamed with a palpable anger.

Anne reached across the table and touched his hand lightly, causing him to smile. A façade, of course, she knew that but at least it was a start. "Henry," she began, putting on her most persuasive tone of voice, "it is our duty to entertain the King and Queen, if they desire it, while they are on progress. You are the most powerful peer in England, you had to have known that were going to demand a visit," Anne explained.

While she enjoyed having Hampton court all to herself just as much as Henry did, and having the court treat her like de-facto Queen, she knew in the back of her mind that the day would come when she and Henry would have to face reality and concede to Arthur and Katherine. She would still be considered the second woman in England, a great step up from being a mere lady in waiting to the Queen; however, Henry would never see it that way. Arthur's visit would be a loss of his newfound freedom and what he believed was his God-given right to be equal to his brother, if not greater. Even if his pride permitted him from admitting this was the real reason he was so distressed by Arthur's request, Anne knew that it was the truth.

"He sounded so... condescending in the letter. As if I could not create my own household! I'm sure it was _Katherine _that wrote it." Henry raged, the venom in his voice apparent to anyone who may be listening in.

"Henry, no matter what they think of you and your abilities; you will have something shortly that neither of them have ever been able to achieve," Anne attempted to calm him. She rose from her chair and sat on his lap, placing his large hand over her belly, which was slowly but surely swelling. "An heir to inherit their kingdom, nay, our kingdom." Henry smiled at this thought, his mood immediately brightened. Anne was able to return to her seat, confident that Henry would have no more outbursts of anger due to upcoming visit.

"You should meet with my mother about preparing for their visit. I want no expense spared," Henry suggested. He knew that his mother was the best possible person to prepare for the visit, and that Anne would be a great help to her. There were not two people who he trusted more, and he wanted everything to be perfect. Arthur would have to be envious after he left! He took the last bite of his breakfast and gave Anne's hand one last squeeze. "I know you won't fail me, darling. I'd love to stay longer, but I promised Brandon I'd go for a hunt this morning."

"Your grace," Anne rose from her seat to give Henry a proper goodbye, dropping down into a curtsy. Her father warned her that Henry's temper may be inflamed if she was not formal with him, or thought herself above him. Her father told her to greet Henry with his formal title and when he left to rise and curtsy to him. She found it tiresome, but she was raised to believe her father knew best, so she did as he told her.

"Anne, there's no need for that. I want us to always speak freely with each other, without the burden of titles and rank. For me, that is the true definition of love." Henry leaned into kiss her slowly, tenderly, a rare moment for him. "Now, I will leave you to tend to preparations for this _royal _visit," Henry sarcastically dismissed himself, his distaste over Arthur's presumptuous visit plain.

Anne sighed and sat back down to continue her breakfast, alone. Although she loved Henry dearly, she got quite annoyed with his futile sibling rivalry. She had spent enough time with him to know that although Arthur was a great King, her Henry would be even better. She wanted Henry to get along with his brother better, knowing that it would be best for everyone involved if this was to be achieved. Because even if he was impatient to be King, Anne knew that his day would come and that their reign would be a glorious one, and he didn't want Henry to act impulsively and bitterly to compromise his status as heir apparent.

While the King's love of the Queen and his concern for her health prevented them from having any more children, Anne feared that if Henry did enough to provoke Arthur, who was gentle by nature but did inherit his fair share of the Tudor temper (or so she had heard) that he would try again to have children with Katherine, who was still not past the age of childbearing. If this were to happen, she knew that Henry would be crushed and Anne was honest enough to admit that she would be too. She anxiously looked forward to the day that she was crowned alongside Henry as the Queen of England, and she loved the idea that the child in her belly would someday become a prince or a princess, courted by the great royal houses in Europe.

God forbid Henry should do anything to compromise that.

She knew that sometimes Elizabeth liked to sleep late, so she waited a few more hours before heading down to her rooms. She had spent a great deal of her time lately sewing garments for the upcoming child, as many of her ladies had been doing ever since Anne found out she was pregnant, and she was certain that her child would never run out of clothes. She had sewn a new christening gown, and if she had to admit, it was finer than the one that the late Princess Mary was christened in, which Henry had showed her while they still lived at Whitehall. While that gown held historical importance as all royal children were christened in it, Anne thought that it was outdated and plain, so she took upon herself to sew a new one.

Besides, she wasn't sure if Katherine would part with the old one anyway. Anne wouldn't blame the woman in the slightest if she held on to anything, even if it was just a garment, which reminded her and allowed her to remember her daughter.

When she reached her mother-in-laws suite of rooms, she was allowed entrance and was greeted swiftly with a hug by Elizabeth. "Daughter, I believe you are showing," Elizabeth gushed. Since they had begun to live in close corridors to each other, as Henry had put them close to each other on purpose, Anne and Elizabeth grew closer and began to refer to each other as mother and daughter. While Anne's mother had died while she was in France and she didn't really know her well; Elizabeth had been there for Anne ever since Henry announced that they were getting married.

"Oh, it's just a little. I'm only three months in," Anne replied, placing a hand to her belly. There was a small lump there, but nothing large or outwardly noticeable, and nobody outside of Henry and Elizabeth knew about it. Henry wanted to make sure that the time was right before he made the pressing announcement, although both of them were very impatient to share their joy with their court.

"Would you like some wine? When I was pregnant with Arthur, the physician advised me to drink it. I did it with all of my children," Elizabeth offered, directing Anne to sit down. After one of her ladies served them both wine, Elizabeth dismissed them in order to spend some time with Anne alone, knowing that privacy was such a fleeting thing for women in the public eye. "What brings you here?"

"Arthur and Katherine are coming for a visit within the next few weeks. Henry has commissioned us to plan it. He told me that he wants it to be perfect, in order, I'm sure, to make Arthur envious," Anne confided in Elizabeth. "I am worried about him. His obsession with outdoing Arthur, it's unhealthy, and it could ruin us!"

"Arthur adores the two of you, and deep down, Harry loves and admires his older brother. His pride is just standing in the way of expressing it. He hides it in jealously. I would not concern yourself with that; you have a child on the way. Stress will do it no good, especially when it is unfounded stress," Elizabeth advised, placing a gentle hand on Anne's arm. "You and Harry have done well here, Arthur will recognize that, although Katherine might not be too pleased about it," Elizabeth paused for a moment, allowing Anne to digest her words. "In any case, such speculation gets us no farther in planning for this visit. I will have my ladies alert the kitchen staff, and we will have a picnic outside. It's such a lovely day," Elizabeth proposed, taking Anne in hand and heading out.

"Mother!" a female voice exclaimed when she saw Elizabeth walk outside her rooms, and she turned to see Mary standing outside the door, waiting to have an audience with her. However, instead of seeing her face in a wide smile, as Mary usually favored her with; her daughter's face was morphed into a dark scowl. "Your grace," Mary turned to greet Anne, not realizing until her mother turned around that she was with her. All hopes of spending time with her mother that day were dashed, and Mary once again felt a twinge of resentment towards Anne.

"Princess Mary," Anne greeted her, not paying much more attention to her than that, and continued on her walk, not stopping until she realized that Elizabeth had not continued. "Mother, aren't we going?" Anne asked, confused, not trying to be rude towards Mary but she was extremely anxious to start planning. Besides, Mary had never expressed any sort of kindness or desire to be anything more than cold towards Anne, and she did not feel beholden to her.

"Mary, would you like to join us? We are planning for your brother and Katherine's visit to Hampton next week. It's such a lovely day, perfect for a picnic," Elizabeth invited. She couldn't simply leave Mary standing by her door, clearly desiring an audience. Elizabeth knew that her daughter was a smart girl, and could be useful in planning for the visit; however, she was equally as jealous and quick to resent. She knew that Mary was probably very jealous of all the attention Anne was receiving; attention that used to hers before she ran away with Brandon, a man far too below her and someone whom she married out lust. While Elizabeth did not approve of her judgment or choice of husband, she still wanted Mary to be a part of her life and was happy that she was living at Hampton.

"It's quite alright mother, really, I was just simply taking a walk around the palace," Mary lied. She could sense when she was not wanted, and it was clear that Anne still had no regard for her feelings or for her wellbeing and happiness. She wanted her mother and the rest of the whole damn court all to herself, unwilling to share! Mary shouldn't be surprised; after all, Anne was the great-granddaughter of a merchant, unlike Mary, who was born royal. She shouldn't have expected anything more.

Still, it stung to hear her mother so happy with Anne, and for Anne to call her 'mother' was the final nail the coffin. There was a time when her mother spent precious moments with her, when she was her favorite daughter. Now, it was Anne! Anne- who wasn't even her natural daughter or born high enough to be! She would rather spend time with Katherine than Anne, who would surely make her feel unwelcome amongst her own family, the family that Anne now held spellbound. At least Katherine understood that royalty deserved respect, despite her many other flaws.

"Come Mary, it's such a lovely day, a waste to spend it inside all by yourself. We could always use another advisor, three minds working together are far better than two minds working together," Elizabeth encouraged, knowing that Mary was lying and that the reason she wasn't coming is because she felt unwelcome.

Sensing that Anne was about to protest, citing that she did not need any more help, she turned to Mary, "Excuse me a moment, Mary." She took Anne by the arm and pulled her aside. "I know that you and I can handle this by ourselves, but Mary is miserable. She needs to feel included, or else her resentment and rage will be great, and unfortunately it would be towards us, not towards Harry or her husband," Elizabeth whispered to Anne, praying that Mary didn't overhear. She knew that Anne had a great deal of pride, just like Henry, and that she would protest about having help, but Elizabeth knew that she wouldn't protest if it was for Mary's wellbeing. She knew that Anne did not wish to make enemies.

Anne turned back around to face Mary, a smile plastered on her face, despite feeling less than enthusiastic about inviting Mary but knowing that it needed to be done. She did not want Henry's favorite sister to hate her forever, and Hampton would be a much better place and more fun could be had if Mary did not resent and hate her. "Please come with us Mary, I do need help. I do not know what type of food to serve, or what kind of music to play. You know your brother best, I'm sure, as well as Katherine. It would be an immense help to me," Anne embellished. She did not feel bad stretching the truth, not in this case. If Mary needed a confidence boast, so be it.

Mary knew that this was not Anne's invitation by free will, and that it did take some encouraging, yet she felt her heart swell. It felt nice to know that Anne cared, even if her opinion was not quite changed, it was a step in the right direction. She summoned her most haughty and royal voice, "Well if you need my help THAT badly, I suppose I would have to be heartless to refuse."

_

* * *

_

A Week Later

When Henry saw Arthur walk into the main hallway of Hampton court, where he and Anne as well as his mother, Brandon, and Mary were waiting to greet him; he forgot how much older his brother was than him. Henry could see dark shadows underneath his eyes, and his skin was paler than he remembered. Although his clothing was much finer than Henry's, as was expected, it still could not hide the fact that Henry was the more attractive of the Tudor brothers.

Looking at Katherine next to his brother, however, Henry could tell that the clearest contrast was between their wives.

While nobody could call Katherine an ugly woman, her body and face were etched with the signs of her hard and stressful life. She looked far older than her 31 years. Although her jewelry was exquisite, as they were pieces from the official jewels of the Queens of England Henry remembered because his mother used to wear them during formal occasions; Katherine's gown was plain and did nothing to flatter her, although Henry was sure it was made out of the finest materials from the best seamstress in London.

Looking over to his Anne, the contrast was clear. Anne was fourteen years younger than Katherine, and it showed. Anne knew how to dress to flatter her exotic coloring, and absolutely nobody would ever argue that she was plain, ugly, or that Henry had a reason to be ashamed of her. He knew that a great deal of people would have gotten a good laugh if Henry had picked his bride for love, and she turned out to be a dim-witted and unattractive. Luckily, Anne was anything but, which caused Henry's pride to swell ten times its original size when he saw how beautiful she looked compared to Arthur's wife.

If Arthur was jealous of his wife or of Henry himself, he did a great job of concealing it. He approached Henry, Anne, and the rest of their entourage with a pleasant smile on his face, and Katherine was careful to morph his expression, but Henry could guess that she was none too happy about visiting his court.

"Welcome to my court, your majesties," Henry greeted them a bit too pompously, but as always, Arthur was not offended by his brother's brazen attempt to outdo him.

"You've done marvels to the place, brother." Arthur jovially pulled his brother out of his bow and gave him a hug. "And my dearest sister Anne is just as beautiful as I remember her," Arthur complimented, pulling Anne into a tightly wound hug. He was always fond of her, ever since she proved to the rest of his family that he was a man, not a boy. "Mother!" Arthur then focused his attention onto his dearest mother, kissing her on the cheek rather loudly. His greeting of his sister Mary and of her husband Brandon was not quite as warm, but he still took care not to offend her and to show Henry and most importantly, his mother and Katherine, that she was indeed forgiven- at least in word. He could still not fully welcome her back into his heart; her betrayal was far too great.

"Thank you, your graces, for receiving us in your lovely palace," Katherine greeted them after Arthur was done showering them with his affection. Although Katherine was not pleased to be there, per say, she was glad that Arthur was able to see his family again. Now that they all lived at Hampton with Henry, she knew that her husband missed them and wanted to see them badly. She couldn't deny him that comfort without feeling heartless.

Surprisingly, Henry answered Katherine with a wide smile on his face, although Anne and Elizabeth could both tell that it did not reach his eyes. "You are welcome here whenever it pleases you, your majesty," he admonished, although a bit sarcastically, which Katherine caught. The tension the room became far thicker, and everyone present began to feel awkward.

"Well, let's eat, shall we!" Arthur exclaimed, playfully slapping Henry on the back and taking Katherine's hand once again, leading the procession to Henry's rooms. He could tell by the deadlock between Katherine and Henry that she was about to say something damaging, and above everything, he wanted this visit to go well and for the rifts in his family to be healed somewhat. It was his job as patriarch to make sure that his family was unified, and he felt like he had failed in some respects.

Once they reached Henry's rooms, the tension was down a bit, and everyone seemed to be equally as hungry and more focused on the food rather than at each other. Katherine seemed to be hitting it off with Anne as well, which pleased both Henry and Arthur greatly. Elizabeth also made sure to pay attention to Mary, sensing that her youngest daughter had been feeling neglected and she wanted to make amends. Brandon and Arthur had begun to talk a bit, finding common ground in hunting. Although Arthur no longer hunted, he enjoyed it in his youth and wanted to do his part to make sure that everyone in the family got along better.

After the meal was finished, Henry grabbed Anne's hand and stood up. "I have an announcement to make, and now is as good as time as any. Sweetheart, I'll let you do the honors," Henry offered, smiling at Anne.

"I am with child. It's due in March," Anne stated, unable to wipe the smile off of her face, although she feared for the reactions.

"Oh this is such wonderful news!" Arthur was the first express anything, not even waiting a mere second after the news to jump up and hug Anne and Henry. He inquired about Anne's health and offered to send his personal physician when the time came closer, and whenever Anne desired it. Although part of him tinged with longing, wishing that he and Katherine could have been blessed with children, he was happy for his brother and pleased that his succession was not in danger. As long as Henry proved virile, and his sons after him did as well, the Tudors would rule for a long time, which pleased Arthur; even if he still wished that he could have had a son to take his throne, instead of his younger brother.

After the news digested, Katherine was quickly able to recover and congratulate Anne and Henry, even if it left a sour taste in her mouth. She did not wish any woman the bad luck she had in childbed, and she so desperately wanted to see her husband's line continue.

Any talk of children, though, and Katherine still hurt with the fresh memories of her dearly beloved daughter Mary. She couldn't find it in heart to be jealous of Anne, knowing that every woman deserved the joy of holding her baby in her arms after carrying it for nine long months in her womb; however, Mary's death was still painfully fresh, and hearing the announcement that Anne was pregnant made her remember a time when she was sure she would have a nursery full of princes and princesses, some of them with her coloring and some with Arthur's.

Even if she was happy for Anne, it still stung to see the joy on Henry and Anne's faces, remembering a time when that was her and Arthur. She could still remember the first time she told Arthur she was with child, how happy he looked, and how painful it was when she miscarried their son, their first child of many to be lost to the fates.

The pain Katherine experienced that moment was a different kind of pain; pain at the realization that while her time was ending, Henry and Anne's was just beginning.

* * *

"We shall leave you ladies to your own devices. I wish to show Arthur where I sport, and hopefully we shall have time to try out the archery butts," Henry proposed to Anne, Katherine, Elizabeth and Mary after their midday meal had ended. "We shall meet back here for dinner, with the rest of the court." With that, Henry left with Brandon and Arthur, all three men in good cheer.

"I have grown weary, I am going up to my rooms to rest. I will see you all at supper this evening," Elizabeth explained, kissing both Anne and Katherine on the cheeks and giving Mary a warm hug before heading up the stairs to her chambers.

Mary, sensing that her presence would be unwelcome by both Katherine and Anne while Anne showed Katherine around, left to go work on her needlework and to read a bit before dinner. She was surprised; however, that Anne proposed that the two of them meet up at her rooms before dinner to walk down together. Mary was still not particularly fond of Anne, but she was grateful that she was at least trying to make Mary feel more welcome and equal to the royal family once again.

"Has she been giving you any trouble?" Katherine asked Anne as they began her walk, after she was assured that Mary was out of earshot. Although she still wished that Henry would have married one of her relatives, she felt the need to protect Anne from bullying. Katherine could remember a time when she was young and scared when she first married Arthur, and how she was bullied by his family at first, before she grew strong enough to defend herself. She knew what Mary was capable of, and had never forgiven her for jilting her nephew for a commoner.

"Not outwardly," Anne confided, "but I can sense that she isn't particularly happy that I've married Henry. It is no matter though, Elizabeth has been most helpful and Mary would never dare say anything offensive in the presence of her mother," Anne explained, grateful to Katherine for caring.

"How do you like it here?" Katherine asked as they continued their walk around the palace, with Anne stopping to point out points of interest or beauty. Katherine tried very hard to keep any malice from her tone, but she couldn't help but feel resentful still that Wolsey had given Henry Hampton as a wedding gift, and that some of her household had left her service in order to gain the favor of Anne. Intentionally or unintentionally, Anne had still stolen Katherine's clout of influence and now the two women were sharing it.

Anne, blissfully unaware that Katherine had a problem with the fact that she know had her own household, gushed, "I love it!" Although she did have enough diplomacy to know that Katherine wouldn't like to hear how wonderful it was to have freedom and to be the head of a court full of youthful and vibrant courtiers. "His eminence was so kind to give it to us," Anne embellished. Henry told her that Katherine and Wolsey had a bit of a falling out, which was why Wolsey resided with them now, but she thought it would do no harm to speak favorably of him. She did owe him a lot, after all, and was immensely grateful.

Katherine made a bit of a grimace at the sound of Wolsey's name, but smiled at Anne and continued the tour. It wasn't until they reached the nursery that Katherine felt another rush of emotions.

"Mama!" Hal called out at the sight of Anne, running up to hug her. Anne dropped down on her knees to hug him and kiss him. When Henry first presented Hal to her, telling him that they were going to live together, Anne was apprehensive to say the least, but as soon as she began to spend more time with Hal she realized that such a sweet boy as him deserved a loving mother and father, and Anne would never begrudge Henry for trying to provide that for him. Having lost her mother at a very young age as well, she understood how difficult it was, and she did not have a heart of stone.

"Hal, my darling boy, how are you?" Anne inquired after he was done with his sloppy greeting.

"Well, mama, thank you," Hal answered, favoring Anne with a gummy smile, as all of his teeth had not quite grown in.

"Hal, this is the Queen. You must greet her properly now," Anne instructed, almost forgetting that they were in the company of the Queen, and that Katherine wouldn't like it if she were snubbed by Henry's bastard son, the boy that she had once desired to see stored away with some peasant family, as if he never existed. She never thought then that she would have such a cause to be grateful to Arthur for protesting to Katherine's demands.

"Your majesty," Hal greeted Katherine, dropping down into a bit of a clumsy bow and kissing Katherine's outstretched hand, as his governess had taught him and as his mama had instructed him to do.

Despite herself, Katherine was charmed by the little boy, and could never be cruel to any child, even if she had at one time been angered over his existence. "My lord, it is very lovely to meet you."

Even if Hal was a charming little boy, however, she couldn't help but feel a bit disgusted over the way that he greeted Anne as his natural mother. If Arthur ever conceived a bastard, Katherine would have never treated it as her own child, nor would anybody expect her to. She thought it was intolerable that Anne was forced to treat the child as her own, especially now that she was expecting one of her own. She intended to do something about it, to prove to Arthur that she was willing to extend the olive branch.

Once they reached Anne's rooms, Katherine let her sentiments be known. "How long as Lord FitzYork been residing here?" she asked, still indigent at the thought that a Princess, even if it was by marriage, was forced to coddle to her husband's bastard child! She thought it was incredibly unfair that Henry was forcing her to take care of it as her own, to allow him to call her mama. Even if she had once objected to the marriage of Henry and Anne, now that it was done, Anne was a royal and needed to be accorded the proper respect by her husband and his illegitimate child.

"Ever since we moved here he's been here. Henry thought it best that he was under the same roof as us. He just brought him to dinner one day and told me that I was to treat him as my own son, and to practice my mothering skills on him," Anne explained, confused as to why Katherine was asking. She knew when the late Bessie Blount told Katherine she was pregnant, Katherine was furiously angry, and wanted to do whatever it took to make sure that Hal wasn't a contender against her daughter. Now that the Princess of Wales was dead, however, she wasn't sure why Katherine would be interested in Hal.

"And is to share a nursery with your upcoming child?" Katherine asked, shocked. Anne's child would in all likelihood, be an heir to England someday. To share living quarters and tutors with a bastard just didn't seem right to Katherine. Arthur would have never placed Mary in the same nursery with bastard children, if he had any, nor would he expect Mary to treat them as her equal sibling. If Henry was going to be King someday, he had best learn that it was unacceptable to do such a thing.

When Katherine was a child, she remembered her mother's own fits of rage when she found out that Ferdinand had conceived a bastard, privately of course she raged, not in public or around her husband, as that would be unacceptable behavior for a Queen. Her father knew that the bastard could not be brought near his rightful wife and rightful heirs, because that wasn't the correct royal protocol. Katherine never met any of her father's bastards, nor would she have wanted to.

Besides, she was able to feel pity for Anne even if Hal was legitimate or not. Hal was a three year old child, and Anne was a young girl of seventeen. She couldn't imagine that Anne truly wanted to take on the task of being a maternal figure to a boy who was not her natural child. She would want her attention to be focused on any upcoming children she would have, which would be a challenge for her since she was seventeen years old; although it was the norm Katherine couldn't imagine having her first child at seventeen. Anne had already so much on her plate; Katherine couldn't imagine that this was welcome to her.

"Naturally Henry wants all of his children to be together," Anne answered straightforwardly.

"This is intolerable! I shall speak to Arthur about this first thing tomorrow and see to it that Lord FitzYork is removed from your household and care. You shall no longer have to house your husband's bastard; neither I nor Arthur would expect you too. You shall not be bullied by your husband, or pressured by his mother, any longer," Katherine offered. She could imagine that Elizabeth also wanted Hal to live in close corridors with his father, and given that Elizabeth had helped Anne so much in changing from commoner to royal, Anne wouldn't have the heart to refuse, even if Katherine believed that's what she truly wanted.

Anne stood up from her chair, now visibly angered. "Do you think I cannot handle raising my husband's son? He needs a mother! And the matters of me and my husband are none of your concern, madam, nor should you presume yourself in charge of us any longer" Anne shut down Katherine's offer without diplomacy, very indigent at the idea of Katherine interfering with her household and her children, as she had come to consider Hal a son. She and Henry had fought long and hard for their freedom from Katherine and Arthur and she was not about to let her interfere with that!

"How dare you speak to me in such a way? I am the Queen of England, your grace, you best not forget!" Katherine raged, shaken and shocked that Anne would speak to her in such a way after her gracious offer. She was only trying to help, she was unaware that Anne was fond of Hal FitzYork and actually wanted him in her household. To be shut down so forcefully shock her to the very core and she felt that Anne was being disrespectful and rude. "You downgrade our royal house by allowing your husband's bastard to call you mother!" Katherine added.

Mary, who had been listening in the whole time, could no longer stand what she was listening to. She was going to meet Anne for supper, as she had proposed earlier, when she heard Katherine's voice so she waited in the outer chamber, hoping that their conversation would be short. Instead, all she heard was Katherine harshly quiz Anne about her little godson, Hal. She walked into the room quickly, jumping to Anne's defense. "You push your own agenda, as usual, dearest sister. You would like nothing more for Hal to leave Hampton, be shut away in the country, forgotten about. It's all about you and getting revenge for your daughter's death, you want others to suffer!"

Katherine turned to face her newest attacker. Just a few hours ago, Anne seemed none too happy about Mary living at Hampton, yet now, the two were teamed up against her, raging against her for offering kindness. She felt her heart drop when she heard Mary mention her daughter, and now felt defensive and compromised. "I see how it is, the two youngest daughters in the family, attacking the oldest because I offer kindness that does not please you both. You can keep your bastard, but you will not speak to me in such a matter! Especially you, Mistress Brandon, because if I had my way your husband would be dead and you'd be in Spain!" Katherine stormed away, heading off to tell Arthur of how rude his sister and Anne were to her. He would defend her because she was the anointed Queen of England and hopefully be insulted at the idea that two foolish young girls would speak to his wife in such a matter.

"Thank you," Anne turned to Mary as soon as Katherine was gone, hugging her tightly. "I am so grateful that you were there, I would have said something I regretted. You handled her much better than I would have," Anne complimented.

Mary smiled. Perhaps Anne wasn't as bad as she once originally thought, after all, she was willing to stand up for Hal, her godson, and was brave enough to take on Katherine. They could be partners against their tyrant of a sister-in-law, because God knew that she needed to be put in her place.

_Alright, that's all for this chapter, I'm really sorry it took me so long for me to write it, I was having trouble crafting it and I'm still not very pleased with the way it turned out, so go easy on me! Next chapter will see the conclusion of the ultimate misunderstanding between Katherine and Anne (no worries, Arthur will save the day!). I hope you all enjoyed it, and if you did, please review! They make me happy :) Until next time... _


	30. Chapter Thirty

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! Okay, to start off with, I appreciate that all of the reviews last chapter were either positive, or had some helpful criticisms in them. I am grateful to all of my readers for bringing their complaints to be me in a constructive, helpful way, instead of flaming. I hope everyone who reviewed/read last chapter is reading this though, because I would like to address some of these criticisms and I how I am going to endeavor to make the story fairer towards my characters:

Katherine was the one people were clamoring most loudly about last chapter, and I am truly sorry for the way that she came across. It wasn't meant for her to be, err, let's just say bitchy. My goal throughout this tale is for Katherine to be tough and strong, which at times, has come across as being mean. This chapter, my goal is to show everyone that Katherine isn't being mean for the sake of being mean (although you might not see it right away, I beg you to keep reading past the first section). You will all read more about Katherine's feelings this chapter, because I fear I did not go enough in depth last chapter like I should have (somebody got lazy...). Last chapter, she and Anne got into a disagreement about Hal FitzYork, and Katherine seemed to have come across to a few of you as mean and unfair. That was not my intention in the slightest, and I apologize once again.

As for Anne, I have a clearer explanation about her. She is showing some Mary Sue characteristics, and again, not my intention. However, I would like to remind everyone that Anne is only seventeen in this story, and really has no reason to be angry at anybody. She has gotten a fairytale dream, and my plot hasn't really given me the proper potential to develop Anne into the fiery, passionate and at times, arrogant, woman that she was in history. That is my AU and me being kinder to Anne than history was to her. This chapter, Anne will show more of the characteristics you asked for, because I totally and completely agree, I haven't developed her character quite yet, and I hope everyone sticks around and gives my Anne another chance.

However, while all complaints about Anne's character being under-developed and Mary Sueish are fair and will be addressed properly in this chapter, or so I sincerely hope, this is a Henry/Anne story just as much as it is a Katherine/Arthur story, and I do not intend for them to be miserable. My goal in this story was to give both Katherine and Anne happier endings. That's not to say, I haven't given Katherine a fairy tale ending; but everyone has to agree that she has certainly received a step-up from history. Anne's ending will be an even bigger improvement.

If my readers thus far have a problem with this, and I say this without sarcasm or malice, I totally and completely understand if you stop reading. This may or may not be your cup of tea, and I respect that. However, it is my hope that everyone who has supported this story up until this point will continue to read and enjoy what I have created. I couldn't have come this far without all of you behind me. I beg you, give this story a chance. I know it has changed, but I promise that I have some plot devices in store that will hopefully be pleasing to all of you.

I promise all of you, right now, that all of my characters will be written as fairly as I possible can (I'm not a perfect writer, as you could all probably tell). To the best of my ability, I will make this story better. Last chapter did not exactly meet my quality standard, and I am disappointed in it and not proud of it, like I have been with most of my previous chapters. I have confidence, however, that all of you will enjoy this chapter far more than you did the last one.

Finally, I hope this intro didn't insult anyone, because that isn't what it's meant to do. I just wanted to set the record straight, and to explain to you all that I am grateful for the concern you've taken with the story. I respect all of you, and I am writing this story for myself as well as my readers. I wanted to clarify my characters to share with all of you that I intend to make them geared more towards history and easier to understand and to read from now forward. But there are some things I am just not willing to sacrfice, and I hope you all understand that, and again, take no offense to this. **I am not, at all, the least bit angry.**

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;]

Huge thanks to ReganX, whose previous brainstorming with me inspired some of the poorly displayed events of last chapter, and hopefully the better displayed events of his one. Also another thank you to TrivialQueen, for her moral support :D

Without further ado (I am sorry for the really long intro) I bring you wonderful people Chapter Thirty! (Wow!).

* * *

**Hampton Court**

_The Same Day_

Katherine was hoping Arthur would be alone. Instead, when she reached the bottom of the steps leading the Great Hall, still a bit worked up from her encounter with Anne and Mary, she was dismayed to find him surrounded by the party from earlier.

If she had been able to meet with Arthur alone, she knew he would have been able to pacify her anger. Her husband was everything reasonable in the world, she was sure that she had never met a calmer soul than him. Instead, she couldn't wait, for some reason she just couldn't control her words, her anger. She was insulted that Anne, in her arrogance, had spoken to her in such a disrespectful manner. Even if Anne was confidently expecting the day when she would become the Queen of England, that day was not today, and Katherine still held that title; thus, it wasn't okay for Anne to yell at her for making an offer, accuse her of attempting to control hers and Henry's lives.

If Anne had shown more kindness towards her, since Katherine was only acting in what she thought was a decent way, trying to help ease Anne's transition into royalty, than she wouldn't have been angry. She thought it was a very kind thing for  
Anne to take Henry's bastard under her wing and had she known that Anne was okay with it, she would have never made that offer. However, she had made the assumption that Anne was not comfortable with rising Henry's child as her own, and thought that Anne was only doing it because Henry was forcing her too.

Instead, Anne had presumed that Katherine was interfering with her life, sticking her nose in a place it didn't belong. It inflamed Katherine's temper, to say the least, that Anne thought she was no better than Margaret Beaufort, and that Anne was the unwitting Elizabeth of York, being bullied into something that she did not agree with. Anne probably thought that Katherine was going to take her children away from her, because she wanted revenge against Henry for being virile and his ability to produce offspring.

It was truly painful to believe that Anne and Mary thought that she was jealous enough to think that way! She was never the type to take shots at others because they had what she did not, or to envy others. The good Lord taught her that envy was a sin, and that God would punish her for it. She also had a conscience, one that conflicted with the emotions of jealously and vengeance.

Perhaps if Katherine waited longer after her yelling match with Anne, she would have been able to explain all this to Arthur, and it would have blown over, and Katherine would have swallowed her pride and made an apology. Instead, she had felt insulted, pained, and angry; she could not wait until the time was right and she had enough time to sort through her emotions. She had to tell him now; she couldn't let this happen again.

Arthur, who could always sense when Katherine was temperamental, spoke before Katherine had a chance to. "What is wrong, sweetheart?" he asked kindly. He prayed that it wasn't about Anne, and that the two of them had lasted the whole time without having to wring each other's necks. Although he was confident that the two women could become friends, he knew that their personalities were similar enough where they could also clash.

"The Duchess of York seems to think because she will be Queen someday, it is acceptable to talk to the present Queen in a manner most disrespectful!" Katherine explained, her voice clearly tense, her words clearly displaying that she was insulted.

"Perhaps you offended her. It wouldn't be the first time," Henry scoffed at the notion that his Anne was responsible for inflaming someone's temper as much as Katherine's appeared to be. He was sure that it was Katherine's doing, and that she was acting out of envy and spite. He was sure that it was Katherine who had started it and offended Anne; who surely had no choice but to retaliate. After all, he had told Anne stories from his youth, when Katherine tried relentlessly to get him to enter the church; she knew well enough what the woman was capable of, and he knew that his wife would never let another walk all over her.

"That's enough, Henry. What happened, exactly?" Arthur asked, sincerely hoping the whole thing would blow over and the visit could commence like it never happened. He didn't want to be rude towards his brother either, but he needed to hear the full story from Katherine, in order to see if he needed to go up and speak to Anne. He knew that Katherine had often times perceived evil where there was none, but he also knew there was rarely smoke without a fire. If Katherine said anything that offended Anne in the slightest, Arthur was sure that she wouldn't take it kindly.

"I was offering to do a favor for the Duchess, and she refused, and accused me of attempting to control her life, interfering where I did not belong. The Princess Mary was also quick to jump to her defense and called me spiteful and vengeful," Katherine offered no specifics in her retelling. She did not wish to offend Henry, and was in no mood for another argument. Clearly, Hal FitzYork was going to stay at Hampton, and Katherine could do nothing about it, nor did she want to any longer. It would do no good for Henry to accuse her of the same things Anne had just moments before.

Arthur heaved a great sigh and his mother walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it, hoping to comfort him. She could sense that he did not want this to happen at all, and was disappointed that his wife and sister-in-law could not get along. She pulled him aside, hoping that Brandon could handle keeping Katherine and Henry from yelling at each other for a few moments. "It would be best to speak to Anne about this, even if you want it to just go away, it won't. Katherine has clearly been insulted, and it will do you no good to take Anne's side in this. I know that would not be your intention, but both of them will see it that way," Elizabeth suggested.

"You're right, of course. Anne cannot speak to Katherine like that; she is the Queen of England. But I'm sure that Katherine attempted to control something or another, I'm sure it was not out of spite, but I'm sure it offended Anne," Arthur theorized. Both women were not weak-willed or submissive by any means. If the situation were lighter, Arthur would almost find it humorous that he and Henry were able to find the most stubborn of women as their wives.

Arthur turned to face the rest of the party. "I am going to speak to her grace, to," he paused, looking for the right word, "sort things out. I shall be back shortly," he announced, moving quickly to go up the stairs. Hopefully Anne had cooled down enough to talk to him civilly, and that there would still be an attempt to salvage the visit.

Henry wished to protest, but before he could, Arthur was already gone. He turned to Brandon with a dark scowl on his face. "If he does anything to upset my wife or my sister, I don't care if he's the King or not, I'll box his ears." He then turned around to look at Katherine, who was huddled in the corner, speaking to his mother, who was trying to calm her down and to keep both of them from having a confrontation. "And she'll be sorry as well."

* * *

Arthur was surprised to see that Anne and his sister were engaged in a deep conversation when he arrived to her rooms.

Earlier that day, it appeared to Arthur that although the two young women were on speaking terms, they didn't appear to have any fondness or special affection for each other, and he had to wonder what had changed. Although he was glad his family was getting along better, he wasn't too happy that the two of them had made Katherine feel vulnerable and attacked. He just wished that all the women in his family could be more like his mother; who didn't hate a soul, save for Margaret Beaufort.

His mother, who never engaged in petty rivalries or accused other people of false or untrue statements- was the perfect model for every woman. While he loved Katherine dearly, and thought that she was a perfect Queen and a fine example for all Englishwomen to follow, she didn't have the nameless, submissive yet unifying quality his mother had. Katherine obeyed him, as proper wife should, and there he could not complain, however.

If he had a married a woman like his mother, however, he would have been gravely disappointed with himself. His father was a monster towards his wife, even if his mother did love him, and he would have hated to turn out that way. His mother was a wonderful matriarch for the Tudor family, but Katherine was just fine the way she was, although it would do her no harm to immaculate Elizabeth's qualities to some extent, in Arthur's opinion.

"Your majesty," Anne greeted Arthur as soon as she realized he had walked into the room, pulling him from his thoughts. Arthur did not notice any sign of tears on her face; in fact, she seemed almost pleased with herself. On further inspection though, he could see the slightest crease of red-stains under her eyes and that her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Anne, sister, this is an informal visit," Arthur greeted them both, hoping to put them at ease. He wasn't mad at them, nor was he angry at Katherine. He just wanted the whole thing resolved and both women satisfied enough so the visit could continue without another issue. "The Queen spoke to me a few moments ago, and she was very upset over some words that were exchanged up here, between the three of you."

Mary could almost laugh in relief that that very moment. She knew Arthur well enough that both she and Anne were not in any sort of trouble for the screaming match that just took place. She remembered seeing her brother truly angry one time, when she had defied him and married Charles without his consent, and she could tell that he wasn't nearly as angry now as he was then. If anything, her brother seemed crestfallen that his wife and sister-in-law couldn't get along, and there was no sign of fury in his expression.

Anne, on the other hand, Mary could tell that she was worried that Arthur was going to chide them about what took place, even if she did not regret, and in Mary's opinion, she shouldn't regret it. Katherine had no right to presume that Hal FitzYork was not a welcome member at Hampton court, and if Anne wanted him out badly enough, she was sure that Anne would have told Katherine. She thought that it was very brave of Anne to stick up for Hal against Katherine in such a sharp way, and she had no choice but to jump her defense.

Even if at one time she may have not enjoyed Anne's company, or liked her very much at all; she grew to respect her after hearing her stick up for her little godson with so much passion. She couldn't begrudge Anne any longer, not after she did something that Mary thought little would do; take in her husband's child and raise it as her own. If Anne was perhaps in her right mind, she wouldn't have, but in Henry's case and for the sake of poor little Hal, it was a good thing Anne wasn't well-groomed in the protocol of royalty.

"So, do either of you care to tell me what happened?" Arthur asked, noticing that both of the girls were lost in thought.

Mary could tell that Anne's retelling would possibly incriminate them, since if she was honest with herself; they were quite rude to Katherine, even if they had every right to be. "Her majesty commanded that Anne stop treating Hal FitzYork like a natural son, and she requested that Hal be removed from Hampton and placed under the care of his governess elsewhere. Anne, of course, views Hal as a son, naturally refused and told her majesty to stay out of her life, as it was none of her concern who resided at Hampton. It was very unfair of the Queen to command such a thing, and Anne dealt with her as she should have," Mary retold, making sure to spin the story in a way that was favorable towards them.

Arthur nodded, sensing that the whole thing was a misunderstanding. Anne believed that Katherine was attempting to control the events at Hampton, thus undermining her authority as the lady in charge. Katherine believed that Anne was being rude, and that Anne thought herself equal to Katherine because she was someday to be Queen. "If this is the case, Anne, Mary, I will speak to Katherine about interfering with the matters at Hampton when we get back to London, as I do not want any more trouble during this visit." Arthur suggested, even if he had no real intention of telling Katherine that. He was sure that it was a misunderstanding, and he said it only to pacify the girls.

Both girls seemed pretty pleased with themselves, but Arthur had to set the record straight, because if he didn't, it would be an insult to his Queen. "However, you both must be kinder to the Queen, and treat her with all do respect. Although you are both very high-ranking ladies, second and fourth in this kingdom, the Queen is still the first." He had to be clear on that point, even if Katherine may have overacted; her slight was probably not imagined. Anne was new at being a royal, so he would give her a break, but he knew that it was his duty to make sure that Katherine was treated respectfully.

Mary and Anne nodded, and accepted both of his outstretched arms to escort them both down the stairs where everyone was waiting to go to the evening meal.

Henry seemed very distraught when Anne walked down the stairs, but she accepted his hug, and Henry was glad to see that she did not appear to have received a harsh scolding by Arthur, because he wouldn't have accepted it if his brother made his love cry, even if he was the King. Mary also seemed pleased with herself, and kissed her husband.

Still, Henry felt the need to ask, to reaffirm that Arthur didn't do anything to upset Anne in the slightest. He knew that Katherine considered it her duty, so it seemed, to upset others. He wasn't going to ask the details about the argument, because his mother did not wish him to. However, he had to make sure his wife was in good cheer, because his job was to protect her from harm, both verbal and physical. "Are you alright?" he asked, inspecting her face for any signs of bruises to make sure that Katherine did not strike her. He knew his brother never would, but he had been scared when he was a child about women slapping those he loved.

"I am fine, it is all settled now. Katherine will have nothing more to do with our lives, Arthur has assured me," Anne explained, feeling relief that she was not to get in trouble. She knew that Arthur loved Katherine, and any offense towards her could have been trouble for Anne. However, he was fair, and knew that Anne was right, and that his wife was guilty more often than not of interfering with others lives'. She only wished that Arthur would make Katherine apologize for her behavior, since Anne saw no reason to apologize for hers. She stood up for her child, and she was sure that any other woman would have acted the same. Still, she knew how he liked to be impartial, and that if both women got off with a slap on the wrist, it would end there.

Katherine took Arthur's hand when walked down the stairs and took her place at the front of the procession. "They do not seem too, chided, husband. Did you even speak to them at all, or did you simply exchange pleasantries?" Katherine asked, sarcastically. She was upset that Anne and Mary came down the stairs with genuine smiles on their face, and Arthur was only up there for a few minutes. She had hoped that both of them would have given her an apology, since she knew that she did nothing wrong. She was simply trying to extend an olive branch, and make Anne's life easier, even if it was a wrong assumption; it was still no excuse to speak to her in such an insulting manner.

"It was a misunderstanding, sweetheart. There was no need to chide them, nor you. I simply wish for this visit to go on, unmolested. You understand, don't you?" Arthur rhetorically questioned. He wanted it over with, and he just wanted to continue like nothing had ever happened, as naïve as that sounded, it was true and it was settled. Katherine needed to accept that, even if her pride was wounded.

"Of course," Katherine muttered, and said no more words for the rest of the evening. As Arthur had explained, there was nothing left to say.

_

* * *

_

Later that evening

Katherine had never truly been alone since she had become Queen. As was custom, she was surrounded by servants and ladies, waiting for her command so they could do some service for her. It was what Queens were supposed to do, and Katherine had become accustomed the lack of privacy that she married into.

So when she dismissed all of her attendants, even her most trusted Maria, who had never left her side, the stillness and quietness of her bedchamber was odd, to say the least. The only noise that was heard was the music and the dancing and the chatter still going on in the Great Hall. She didn't want her ladies to miss out, even though she had plead some indisposition and retired to her rooms for the night, begging nobody to come with her, not wanting them to leave early for her sake. Because she was the Queen, this usually would have been the case, but she didn't want any more attention drawn to her than was necessary.

Besides, she had to be alone, because her mother taught her crying was not to be done in the company of anyone. And Katherine had never felt the urge to cry so much as she did that night.

What had happened to her? She used to be the calmest, gentlest Princess in all of Christendom. Even when she was married at first to Arthur, when she was still called the Princess of Wales and the whole world was against them, she didn't allow herself to lose her temper like she had been recently. Not even as arrogant of a girl as Anne Boleyn would have caused her to storm into the uproar she had created earlier that day.

Like most things, she was tempted to blame it on Mary's death, but she knew it was more than that. She wanted to be heard, she wanted to be right, and she had been that way ever since she had become Queen. If she had married another man, a normal Prince who would have sought to control her every move, Katherine was sure that she wouldn't be this temperamental and at times controlling woman that she was now. Her mother, governess, and sisters all taught her when she was a child to obey her husband when he commanded it, but they never told her what to do if they treated her as an equal. It was like Arthur was some kind of revolutionary, he had his moments where he demanded obedience, and she knew what to do then; however, those moments were rare and she was left to her own devices more often than not.

She got used to being charge, and didn't like it when she saw that she couldn't command the events happening around her.

First it was the miscarriages, the things that set off her paranoia. She wasn't going to have any children, she was sure of it, and then when Mary came around, she became uncomfortable with how powerful Henry was. She developed this fear that she wouldn't be able to keep Henry from stealing her daughter's throne, and she wanted him in the church, but Arthur did not. It was as though he knew that Mary wouldn't survive long enough to be Queen, but Katherine did not see it. She wanted to see her daughter take the throne; she didn't want to see Henry for some reason.

At first, she loved Henry. She thought he was a sweet little boy, but it soured when she saw that he displayed an arrogance and ambition that was unchecked completely. But she couldn't do anything about it, it wasn't her place, and it killed her to think that he could take her throne from her daughter without being able to do anything about it; thus, a dislike of him formed.

Then Mary died, and she felt as though everything she touched turned to dust, and her life became increasingly lonely. She had nobody left, she had either turned off everyone with her temper or her family had all died. Her mother, her father, her brothers and sisters, her children, everyone she loved was gone. Even Arthur, who still loved and adored her, was busy with work more often than not, and was often times sick; sick because scarcely two months after she first fell in love with him, he developed a disease that would cripple him for the rest of his life. It was as though everyone she loved suffered for it.

She thought that maybe she could become friends with Anne; she was so sure of it.

She thought that maybe she would have a chance with this sister-in-law, who was not around for her earlier mishaps, would be able to find a place in heart for her. It hurt her so badly to see that blow up in her face, that she ruined the last chance she had with making peace with her husband's family. Only Elizabeth liked her now, and that was because the woman didn't have the capacity to hate anybody. She thought if that if she offered to ease Anne's burdens, she would be grateful, and be able to convince Henry that perhaps she wasn't all bad, and all the hurts she had helped to cause would be healed.

Instead, Henry had surely convinced her that she was a bad person, and deserved no love from Anne. That Katherine had made Henry's life a living hell when he was a child, along with Margaret Beaufort, and that Anne had no reason to be kind to her. And Anne's arrogance in turning down her offer stung, and Katherine lost her temper, when years ago, before she became lonely and extremely parodied, she would have turned a blind eye and taken the high road.

"Who have you become?!" Katherine screamed into her mirror, and let out a huge sob. She grabbed her hairbrush, the finest one she had, and threw it into the mirror over the vanity, feeling better when she saw her reflection shatter. She hoped that she could become a better person, that she could become the person she used to be, that everyone loved and adored, not just her incredibly understanding husband.

"Sweetheart, what the hell is going on?" Arthur questioned. He had run up as soon as he heard a scream and then the sound of breaking glass. He knew that Katherine was alone, and was worried for her health and safety. He was happy to see that she was unharmed, and that only her mirror appeared to be broken. He was confused, however. "Why are you sitting in the dark? Why did you break your mirror?" he asked, walking with apprehension towards her sitting figure, slumped over in the stool next to her vanity. He was surprised to see that when she turned around, there were clearly tears falling from her eyes, and that she had been crying for a while. He had never, in all of his years knowing her, seen her cry.

"I don't even know who I am anymore, or why you love me," she whispered, her voice speaking in measured tones, concerning to Arthur. Seeing that he was confused, and concerned, she elaborated, "I used to be a very calm, content person, always believing that everything that happened was God's will. Before I became Queen, Anne's words wouldn't have bothered me. I would have never, ever lost my resolve like I did. I'm a monster," Katherine explained, collapsing into Arthur's outstretched arms, as he was now kneeling at her level. Even though she was in the presence of company, however, her tears just kept flowing.

"You are not a monster! You are the kindest person I know, and used to gaining a great deal of respect from others. Anne is young, and you were shocked that she spoke to you rudely, I'm sure," Arthur rationalized. Katherine had become more tense over the years, but he did not think she was a mean person, nor did most of the people he spoke to think she was cruel. In fact, his subjects loved her, and would be dismayed if he ever betrayed her with another woman, or sought to get rid of her in anyway.

"She's not a bad person, I, I," Katherine stuttered, a mess with tears, never really breaking down like this before, so she had no idea how to handle herself. "I should have been more mature, I should have acted like a Queen. I am so sorry," she choked, drenching his doublet with her tears.

"Your life as not been an easy one, darling. There is a reason why you are this way, and why you overacted," Arthur explained, wanting to comfort her. Instead, he feared he just made it worse.

"I'm so lonely, so lonely. Everything I touch turns to dust; nothing stays right when I am around. None of our children survived, you got sick when I married you, Henry hates me, Mary hates me, and now Anne hates me," Katherine explained, telling Arthur her early thoughts. "I think God is displeased with me," she concluded.

"God is not displeased with you, sweetheart. He loves you; you are the daughter of Isabella and Ferdinand, Hs greatest warriors. If you truly feel as though you have treated Anne unkindly, although I believe it was a misunderstanding, tomorrow before we leave, apologize to her. Even if you do not believe it merits an apology, it would make you look magnanimous," Arthur suggested, and smiled when he saw Katherine's eyes light up.

"You are right. Even if she treated me wrong, God taught me to forgive, and to be a better person. I shall speak to her in the morning," Katherine resolved, hoping that one day, Anne would be able to understand that she was once a lonely soul, without direction, but she intended to make it right.

* * *

The next morning, everyone meet downstairs before Katherine and Arthur left. Henry was so happy that they were finally leaving, so he could go back to feeling like he was in control of the palace once again, and that Arthur and Katherine wouldn't be able to upset his wife any longer.

Katherine, however, appeared to be in a sober mood the next morning, and requested to speak to Anne before she left. Anne came to her rooms, although not as quickly as she would have hoped, but she couldn't expect anything more. Anne was probably still upset at her for interfering, and she was going to apologize. She couldn't sit on her pride any longer, she made a mistake, and she was mature enough to admit it.

"I don't wish to fight," Katherine said as soon as Anne walked into the room. She didn't want this to turn into another battle.

"Nor do I," Anne agreed. She had grown tired of arguing, and just wanted Katherine and Arthur to leave so she could go back to living her life the way it was, and continue to act as a mother to Hal and as a wife to Henry. She had a great deal to learn still, and she hoped that when Katherine came back to visit next, that she wouldn't cross Anne again.

"Good, all I wish to do, is apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was wrong of me to assume that you did not want Lord FitzYork living with you, and to interfere with your life here. I only wish you the best of luck," Katherine sincerely apologized, offering her arm out for a hug, which Anne took, although her body was stiff.

"I accept your apology, most willingly. I am glad you see that my life here is none of your concern," Anne replied, driving the point home. She didn't want any more disturbances from Katherine, who thought that she knew better. "I apologize for the tone of my voice, but not for my words. I'm sure you understand," Anne apologized. She was sorry that she was rude to the Queen, and she could have handled it better. However, she wasn't sorry for defending her life and Henry's from Katherine, and hoped that in the future, Katherine would use more tact and discretion.

Katherine wanted to begrudge Anne, chide her for being so pompous, but she knew better now. Anne thought that she was right, and that was okay with Katherine. As long as her conscience was clear, she would feel better about herself. "Of course, your grace. I thank you for your hospitality. You may leave me now, I will be down shortly," Katherine dismissed, giving Anne as genuine a smile as she could manage at the moment.

Anne nodded and gave Katherine a slight curtsy before walking out of her room. It was safe to say that both women felt like they had won that day, and were pleased with themselves in the highest form.

_Wow, this is the fastest I've updated in a while. I just really wanted to save myself from the crappy chapter I wrote last time. I am very proud of this chapter, and I hope you all liked it, and thought it was an improvement, even if it was a bit short. Let me know please what you thought! Until next time... _


	31. Chapter Thirty One

**Author's Note: **Welcome back everyone! I would just like to thank all of my readers and reviewers for their continuing support for this story, and I hope that everyone enjoys this chapter. I just would like everyone to know that **this chapter is** **Anne/Henry centric. Katherine and Arthur will not be making an appearance. **If they aren't your cup of tea, I suggest you skip to the next chapter, or simply wait for my next update.

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;] **Please note the slight time jump. **

Without further ado (a much shorter intro than last chapter, I might add) I present the next installment! Please don't forget to review and let me know what you think!

* * *

**Hampton Court**

_January 15, 1525_

"Father has arranged a marriage for you, George. The King and Henry have both agreed upon it," Anne announced while she and her brother were taking a walk in the brisk winter afternoon, the sun and their fur coats keeping them from freezing. Anne kept a protective hand on her swollen belly, as if she feared that her brother would rage against what she had just commanded.

She knew that George wouldn't be thrilled about the prospect of an arranged marriage, but her father had explained to Anne that it was important for all of her family members to be married to respectable families. Her father, even though he did not tell her so, feared for the outcome of her pregnancy. As cynical as it was, Anne believed that her father wanted George married as soon as possible just in case Anne's fortunes fell, which would in turn affect the rest of her family.

How little faith he had in her! Nevertheless, her father always thought two steps ahead, and Anne was just merely a pawn in his mind. The only reason he would be upset about George's refusal, or if Anne's marriage failed, is because they would affect his ambitions. Anne counted herself very fortunate to have fallen in love with the Duke of York; the most powerful peer in England, because that allowed her to marry the man that she desired. If she had not met Henry, and he did not want to marry her, she would have married some other man, and would have most likely been unhappy.

Her father didn't allow for any sort of trifling emotion get in the way of his agenda, his ambition.

"Who is she?" George spat, a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew the day would come when his father would turn his attention away from Anne for a few moments and realize that George was unmarried. He was sure that his father would want him to marry a respectable woman, who would give him many sons. His father expected that he would gain some kind of title from Anne's marriage, once she had given Henry a son Arthur would surely want the grandfather of the future King of England ennobled; naturally, his father would look to George to see that those titles were passed down, even if George himself did not give a fig.

He knew he would never be happy in a marriage to a woman, no matter how pleasing she tried to be towards him.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the company of woman, but that only that he enjoyed their company for a night, no more. He had gone to bed with many women, some of them he didn't even bother to learn their names. There were plenty of girls at either Henry or Arthur's court that were willing to go into bed with any man who would have them. George didn't think he could take the company of a woman, no matter how pretty and amiable she was, for the rest of his days. Women were shrill and demanding, in his opinion. Even though he had a soft spot for his sisters, who were the only women he could take, he was sure that woman he married would be nothing like Anne or Mary.

Besides, his heart belonged to another, another who he could not marry, never in a million years.

Mark Smeaton, who was Hampton Court's official musician, was the most wonderful person that George had ever encountered, and he loved him. He loved another man, despite what his religion taught him, without shame, even though for his own safety, and for the safety of Mark, he had to keep it a secret. He couldn't hint at it to another soul, no matter how badly he wanted to shout at the top of his lungs how much he loved him; not even his sister could save him from unconditional death if it was uncovered. Homosexuality was a sin, and was to be punished as one. Even though his love for Mark was sinful, that didn't stop him, because it felt so right.

He had never thought himself capable of loving another man, but Mark awoke something in him, something he never even knew existed in people.

Anne, who was always fond of music as a child, was introduced to Mark through an old friend, Thomas Wyatt, who was a poet and a resident at Hampton. Anne thought that Mark's playing on the violin was ingenious, so she naturally wished for him to play at court every night. Henry, who was unable to tell Anne no, and who was also a fan of music and even played a little himself, hired Mark. Anne and Mark had struck up a quick friendship, and George wanted to meet the man, since his sister had spoken so highly of him so often.

"_How do you like life at court, Mark?" George asked as he handed the other man a glass of wine, which he eagerly accepted, still breathless from his playing._

"_I feel twice fortunate, my lord. Once, for being allowed to come here, and twice, for the patronage of your sister," Mark explained. He was grateful to the Duchess for giving him a job and a place to stay, and he had never felt so blessed in his whole life. Musicians were already established at Whitehall, and despite his gift for it, Mark had always had trouble finding a steady source of income. When Wyatt offered to take him to the new court to in turn, audition, for a job, he jumped at the opportunity. _

"_We like to patronage artists. The painter, Holbein, was once a guest in our house," George recalled. Since Anne's rise in favor, the Boleyns had the money to afford to patronage artists, which Anne insisted on doing. George did not protest, since artists were the most lively and exciting people that he ever encountered. _

"_Well, your sister is a beautiful woman," Mark stated, and seeing the confusion on George's face, he elaborated, taking his voice done a whisper, "but not as beautiful as her brother." With that, he did a shallow bow towards George and cantered off to go play another song, leaving the other man dumbfounded and speechless. _

Despite himself, and his somewhat womanizer reputation, he was intrigued. He ventured later that night, after finding out where his room was, and being a bit buzzed on the wine; to where Mark was staying, and entered to the sound of beautiful music coming from the violin. Instead of ambushing the man, finding out why he had said what he said earlier, he found himself unable to stop him, as if it would be a crime to stop such wonderful music.

"_Do you play?" _

"_Sometimes." _

And with that, his affair started, his best kept secret. He dreaded to marry because he felt like it would be a betrayal towards Mark, who had been faithful to, despite the unorthodox circumstances of their relationship. He wished the God wasn't so cruel and that life wasn't unfair, because if it wasn't, he would never have to keep his love a secret, even if it meant he couldn't get married. But since he lived in reality, he couldn't plead love of another, because he couldn't lie to Anne. She wouldn't understand, and he feared that if he told her in any case, it would upset her enough to induce early childbirth, something nobody would ever forgive him for.

"Jane Parker. She's one of my ladies in waiting, and a distant cousin of the King's. It's a respectable marriage," Anne tried to let him down gently, even though she was hesitant to tell him the truth. She was never fond of Jane herself, finding the woman too nosy for her own good, and very ambitious. When her father told her his choice was Jane, she felt the need to protest, even though she wisely held her tongue. The marriage brought a great dowry and it was a finer match than they would have ever been able to conceive before.

"No, I won't marry her. That woman is a snake!" George exclaimed. Even if it was necessary to marry a woman, despite his heart belonging to another, he could never even grow fond of this one! She was awful company, he having only spoken to her enough times as necessary, just to be polite. Even though she was a pretty thing, so George would never have to be ashamed taking her out in public, he would rather marry a plain creature than have to deal with her.

"George, you don't have a choice. We've risen high due to my marriage, and father really wants this marriage to go through. She'll give you children," Anne explained, placing a comforting arm on his shoulder. To her dismay, he recoiled.

"How do I know that this was father's idea at all?" George spat, venom in his tone. Despite his earlier resolution not to upset Anne, he couldn't help it. She just assumed because she had such a wonderful marriage, and was soon to give birth to what the astrologers predicted was a son, didn't mean that George had the same goals. If he was a braver man, less ambitious, he would leave his sister's court, take Mark with him, and live an isolated life in the countryside. But that would never happen.

He wasn't a brave man, and he wasn't a stupid one either.

"How could you say that to me? You know I care deeply for your happiness, but I promise you, this is for the best. She is insufferable I know, but what did you expect? To marry whomever you chose? You know that's not how it works," Anne chided mildly. She thought it was wrong for George to blame her for this, if she had a choice, she would have found another bride for him, just as respectable. But Jane Parker had already come up with her father's demand for a dowry and nothing could be done now; George would benefit if he just tried to make the best out of it.

George didn't even gratify her with a response; instead, he turned around stormed angrily back towards the palace. Anne, unable to walk quickly in fear of slipping on the ice, took an alternate, quicker route to her father's rooms, since she knew that's where he was heading, and met George in there. She was hesitant to go into the room, after hearing screaming from beyond the door, but knew she had to. She didn't want to be blamed for George's marriage, and if anything, she could soften the blow.

"Damn it, George! I know she isn't the most agreeable person, but frankly, I don't care! You will marry her, as planned, in a month's time. This isn't up for discussion," Thomas Boleyn screamed at his only son, beyond angry at his insolence. He had to get George married, he had to see to it that his titles were passed on, and that the whole world knew how far the Boleyns had risen. When Jane's father approached him with a marriage proposal, he couldn't refuse, not after King Arthur insisted that the match was a fine one and the Duke agreed.

George, hearing Anne enter, turned to her. "Anne, please. I can't love her, she's awful! Arthur adores you, Henry is at your beck and call; please, do something," George pleaded, despite his previous anger he knew he couldn't afford to upset her, and if anybody could stop it, it was Anne. "You know you can do something, please, don't make me do this. I will never be happy with her, you know that! If you have any care for me at all, you will speak against this marriage."

"George, that's unfair. You cannot ask me to do that..." Anne began sympathetically, but firmly; however, she was cut off by her father.

"Do not bring your sister into this; she is the one we have to thank for all of our good fortune, and the fact that you are able to get such a fine bride such as this one! Don't be a fool George," Boleyn chided yet again, fighting the urge to slap George. He couldn't believe the nerve of his son, he thought he had seen to it that he was raised better than that.

"She got to marry the one she loved, why do I have to marry such a snake of a woman?" George protested. Even Mary noted that Anne was lucky enough to have married a man that she loved and having everyone agree to it. It didn't seem fair to George that he had to suffer for Anne's luck and good fortune; whereas he thought he was going to profit from it. Even if he couldn't marry Mark, as that was unthinkable, he still wished to marry another lady, one that wouldn't give him such trouble, and who wouldn't question his affair, which he planned to continue.

"If Anne fell in love with anybody else, she wouldn't have gotten to marry them," Boleyn spat. "Leave! And don't you dare breath a word in protest to anyone, or I will see to it that you're allowance will be cut off, and you will be disowned from this family," Boleyn threatened, feeling accomplished when George bowed to him and Anne and took off, tears in his eyes.

Anne turned her back to her father, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the whole situation. It hurt to hear that he wouldn't have let her marry any man she chose, and it stung to know that he didn't care about her, George, or Mary at all. She didn't know why she didn't realize it before, and she had the urge to chase after George and promise to fight for him, but she knew that it would never happen, and ultimately, she would lose. It hurt to feel so powerless.

When he walked over to her and began to gently quiz her about her pregnancy and how she was feeling, she knew all the sudden that it wasn't because he cared about her or her child; it was because he cared about himself.

* * *

_About a month later_

"This room is much brighter than my own when I was in confinement," Elizabeth announced as she walked into Anne's chambers, which she had been confined to for about two weeks. Elizabeth made it a point to visit her everyday, remembering how bored she was when she began her lying-in, and knew how anxious Anne was for the child to be born. "In fact it's brighter than it was yesterday in here. What have you done?" Elizabeth teased. She sat down on the chair that Anne's ladies had provided for her and gave Anne a kiss on the check, glad to see that she looked well.

Anne waited until all of her ladies were gone into her outer chamber, and until her curtain was closed, until she answered, with a laugh. She liked her privacy, and she liked having visitors, which allotted her that privacy. Even if she couldn't be sure that her ladies weren't listening in, it still felt nice, since all of them had been fussing over her since she had been instructed to get off of her feet and stay in bed all day until her child was born. "I didn't like how dark it was, so I requested that the paneling be taken off the windows. I didn't think it was necessary for it to be dark, and thankfully, Henry agreed with me," Anne answered.

"Another victory for you, your grace," Elizabeth praised, and favored her daughter-in-law with a smile. She loved how attentive Henry was towards his wife, and his unborn child. She had never seen her son so worried than when Anne's belly began to swell and she took rest more often. "So, how are the both of you since the last time I saw you?" she asked. She knew it was probably tiresome to Anne that she asked so often, but she wanted so badly for her grandchild to be born safe and sound. She hadn't gotten a chance to play a large part in either Mary or Katherine's pregnancies, and was so thankful that Anne was giving her to the chance.

"We are both well, the babe kicks a lot, he is going to be strong," Anne gushed, already feeling a burst of pride towards her unborn son. "How are you and how is Henry? He doesn't come to visit me very often," Anne asked, and slightly complained. Henry had promised to visit her and saw her off the first day she left for confinement, and the day before he had the panels removed and visited for a while. However, his visits were short and he always seemed in a rush.

Even if it was irrational, and unfounded, she feared that he was having an affair. She knew it wasn't uncommon for powerful men to have affairs when their wives were heavy with child; however, she was aware that Arthur never even considered sleeping with another woman when Katherine was pregnant, since he loved her so much and didn't want to hurt her. Anne liked to think that Henry had that consideration, but she just wasn't sure if he could contain himself for a long period of time. Her husband was a very passionate man, and liked to have his desires fulfilled.

"Anne, what's wrong?" she asked, noticing the dark look on her face all the sudden. "It's not good for you to get upset, not in your condition," Elizabeth felt the need to remind her of that. It was her first pregnancy and so much could go wrong, it was important for her to be careful.

"It's just, I fear, I fear that he is seeking the company of other women while I am unable to," she hesitated, feeling uncomfortable talking of such intimate matters with her mother-in-law, even though they were close. However, she would rather speak of them with her opposed to her father; but still, she felt her cheeks grow hot at the mention of her nights with Henry in front of Elizabeth.

"Please him?" Anne nodded with her head downcast. "I wouldn't worry about such things; his father and his brother have set a good example for him. My husband was never unfaithful to me when I was with child, nor was Arthur unfaithful to Katherine. I see no reason why Harry would seek the company of another woman while you are with child. It makes no sense. If you worry needlessly like this, it could harm the child," Elizabeth warned. The one time Elizabeth miscarried, she was under an amorous amount of stress and she thought that Arthur was going to die. She wouldn't want Anne to worry so much that it distressed the child inside of her.

Anne nodded and tried to smile, but she felt tears spring to her eyes. She knew she was being foolish, and that it was because she was so far into her pregnancies that she felt the need to cry, and in extension, to worry. She just wanted the whole thing to be over and she wanted to go back to living with her husband like before, before she turned into a raging storm of emotions. "Forgive me, I'm just so afraid," Anne confessed.

"There is no need to be afraid! You are healthy, the child is healthy, and Harry loves you. You will have the family that you both desire, and deserve," Elizabeth comforted her, and to her delight, Anne stopped crying.

"You're right, I'm being foolish. I've just been so lonely, you are the only visitor that comes everyday. Henry comes when he can, or when he wants to," Anne sharply criticized her husband, but she wisely stopped there. "Mary also comes occasionally, but I know she has her own child to take care of, her own marriage to tend to." After Katherine's disastrous visit, Mary and Anne had grown close to each other, and spent a great deal of time together. She was a great comfort to Anne while she was pregnant, and visited when she could. "Thank goodness that my sister Mary has joined my household, and that you come everyday."

"I would hate for you to have to go through this alone. Tell me, what names have you and Henry decided upon?" Elizabeth asked, wanting to change the subject. She didn't want Anne to get upset, and she figured that she only had a few more weeks to go until the child was born. Until then, she was sure that Anne could manage to keep herself calm, as long as no delicate subjects were broached; like Henry's imagined infidelity or his lack of visits. She knew that her Harry wasn't doing it to be mean, it was just that the idea of visiting his wife, who wasn't allowed to leave her bed, seemed a bit boring to her lively son.

"Edward seems to be the decision Henry came to, and I have no argument. We thought of Arthur, for the King, but Henry wants to set himself apart. And since Hal's Christian name is Henry, he wants his legitimate heir to have a different name. Henry chose Edward, for your father," Anne answered. Even though she would have suggested the name George, for her beloved brother, she thought otherwise. George visited her often, though not as often as she would have liked, and he was still very unhappy in his marriage, and secretly, Anne believed he blamed her.

"My father would have been touched, and honored," Elizabeth gushed. She loved her father very much, and Henry reminded her so much of him. She was sure that his son would be the same. "What if it is a girl?" Elizabeth asked casually, but it was a test to see if Henry had even discussed names for a girl. She was aware, like everyone else at Hampton, that the most reliable astrologer in England had said the child Anne carried was a boy, but Elizabeth knew better than to trust him. She never put her faith in those crooks, and neither did her husband; however, Margaret Beaufort made her go every time she was with child, and the only child they predicted correctly was Henry.

"It won't be," Anne confidently assured, although Elizabeth could tell that it was a façade. "It can't be, it's impossible. Why would it be? I'm healthy, and strong, and so is Henry. The astrologer told us it was a boy. We have the capacity to bare sons," Anne asserted once again, to assure herself. She couldn't imagine everyone's disappointment if the child was a girl, including her own. Henry wanted a boy, and so did she. Girls could come later; she just wanted the whole world to see that their marriage was not a mistake, and that they were blessed by God.

"Anne, what do you think the child is?" Elizabeth asked. Most mothers had a feel for the sex of their children, even though Elizabeth's own predictions had been fickle.

Anne hesitated before she said male, because she honestly wasn't sure. The child kicked often, which was usually a sign of strength, which came with boys. She had eaten asparagus with every meal, as her physician told her that would make males. However, when she felt her belly or thought about the child, she couldn't see a boy, or a girl. It distressed her to no end. "I don't know, I cannot tell. I just need to it to be a boy," Anne stressed.

"Why? There's no shame in a healthy girl. Just because your husband, father, and brother want it to be a son doesn't mean it has to be. A healthy daughter is more than most couples achieve," Elizabeth rationalized, her thoughts turning towards Arthur and Katherine, who were never able to keep any of their children. "You will be grateful if the child is healthy, won't you? No matter the sex?" Elizabeth asked, needing to make sure that Anne would love the child, no matter what.

"Of course! It is my child, my firstborn child. No matter if it is a boy, or a girl, I will love them and care for them. I know how lucky I am to carry this pregnancy to term," Anne assured, placing a hand on her belly. "I just know that a lot of people will be disappointed," Anne stated, even though she was second guessing herself if she would be disappointed. A child was a child, a blessing from God. She just hoped that Henry could see that, if it turned out that it was a girl.

"Then I am glad," Elizabeth smiled, grabbing Anne's hand. She recoiled, however, when she felt Anne squeeze, and looked up to see a grimace on her face. "Anne, what's wrong?"

"The baby," Anne whispered, kicking the sheets out from underneath to reveal that the bed was now soiled. "He's coming. It can't be, it's too early!" Anne screamed, loud enough to force all of her ladies back into the room. "Mother, what's happening?" Anne questioned, looking to Elizabeth with scared eyes.

"It's nothing for your grace to be concerned about, the babe is coming a bit before it's time, but that shouldn't harm it," Elizabeth assured, rubbing Anne's forehead. "Someone fetch the midwife and Dr. Linacre. I will go and alert his grace," Elizabeth instructed, getting up to leave. She wanted to be the one to tell Henry, she felt like she owed to him.

"Mother," Anne protested, grabbing her arm, "Please do not leave me now. Send someone else. Please, I need you," Anne pleaded, screaming as another onset of pain rippled through her body. "Sister, come here, please. I need you also," Anne instructed, patting her other side once the pain had subsided and she was allowed a brief respite.

With Elizabeth on one side of her, and her sister on the other, Anne felt a bit of relief as another wave of pain came rolling through. The midwife, now in the room after rushing, spoke to Anne, "The babe is coming fast, your grace. You best be prepared to push," the midwife instructed, not over-awed to be serving the Duchess, but speaking to her like any other mother in England.

"It hurts so much," Anne whined to Elizabeth, never feeling as much pain as she felt at that very moment. She had been warned it hurt, but not this much. She never imagined that anything could hurt this much.

"It is okay, Anne, you will be fine. Just keep pushing; it'll be over soon," Elizabeth instructed.

"You are doing wonderful Anne, just keep it up, it's almost out," Mary soothed, rubbing her sister's hair. "Breathe Anne, breathe," Mary suggested.

"The head is crowning, your grace. Just one more good push!" the midwife exclaimed.

With a great scream, Anne expelled her nine-month burden into the world. The midwife gave the baby a light slap on the buttocks, and everyone was relieved when the baby let out a scream to signal that it was healthy. "What is it? What's wrong?" Anne asked, concerned by everyone's quietness. "My son is healthy, isn't he?"

"Your grace, your daughter is healthy," Mary corrected. She knew that Anne was expecting a son, but she didn't think it was that big of a let down. Anne was only seventeen, and hadn't even been married for a year yet. She was sure that Anne would have many more healthy children to come, and that some of them would be boys.

"A healthy daughter, praise be to God. I will tell his grace this joyous news," Elizabeth gushed, giving Anne a kiss on the forehead. "You did wonderful, daughter. Do not be disappointed," Elizabeth suggested. It would do no good for Anne to be disappointed.

Anne nodded and as her newborn daughter was placed in her arms, despite her earlier disappointment, all she felt was love. She could not begrudge the little girl in her arms that her father wanted a son, because no matter what, Anne loved her. She had the most perfect little hands and the most perfect little feet; and her crystal blue gaze assured Anne that her daughter would love her forever. Her body, although still a bit bloody, showed no signs of stress or of the fact that she was born a month before she was expected. "How could I be disappointed? She is perfect," Anne gushed. She giggled as her baby wrapped her tiny little finger around hers, her grip strong.

"She is absolutely perfect in every single way."

* * *

"Mother," Henry greeted his beloved mother with a hug, wearing a worried expression on his face. He was able to breathe a sign of relief, however, when his mother gave him a wide smile. "My son and wife are healthy? Everything went fine?" Henry asked, his voice betraying his innermost worries. When one of Anne's ladies came to tell him that Anne had gone into labor, he wanted to go to her, but it was unthinkable. Instead, he had to content himself with waiting in his chambers while Anne struggled to push their child into the world. He could still here her screams, despite the fact that she was on the other side of the palace.

"Your wife and your _daughter_ are both healthy," Elizabeth stressed the word daughter, feeling a bit disappointed in her son for expecting it to be a boy, thus causing stress on Anne before her labor. She was so happy when Anne requested to hold her child right away, only letting out a little whimper when she found out it was a girl. Anne knew the perils of childbirth and how dangerous it could be, and so, she was happy with her healthy daughter. She hoped Henry would be too.

"I have a daughter?" Henry questioned, as if it was unthinkable. He had never even thought about the idea of having a daughter, it was either a son or a stillborn. He had prepared a speech for both; if it was a stillborn, he would have comforted Anne and assured her that he still loved her, and that they would have a healthy child next time. If it was a boy, he would have been overjoyed, and thrown large celebrations in honor of his wife and son. However, it was a healthy girl, and he had no idea how to react.

"Yes, Harry, and she's beautiful. A blessing from God. You should be happy, and proud," Elizabeth chided. It was his daughter, and even if expected a son, he needed to be joyous. "If you are not, I will be gravely disappointed in you," Elizabeth added.

"Of course I am happy, mother. A healthy daughter is a blessing. Not as much of a blessing as a son." Or as much of a kick in the face to Katherine, Henry thought, but decided not to say it out loud.

"Of course it is, you fool! You have an heir now, when you become King she shall be a Princess. You have a legitimate child, and the assurance that there is more to follow. Both girls and boys," Elizabeth explained, fighting the urge to slap him. Arthur would have given his kingdom and much more to have his Mary back, Henry was simply being selfish and arrogant by not celebrating.

Henry, stung but humbled by his mother's words, felt better. Anne gave him a child; they had a true family now. A girl was better than a stillborn, and for their first child, perhaps it would even be better if it were a girl. They could practice their parenting skills on her, and by the time they had a son, he would be raised into the son and heir that Henry desired. He gave his mother a genuine smile. "I want to go see her, and my daughter," Henry announced, walking proudly down the halls.

However, he noticed that people were avoiding eye-contact with him, and not offering him congratulations. "Good people of Hampton," he announced loudly right outside of Anne's rooms, and his mother's smile encouraged him to keep going. "The Duchess has given birth to a beautiful daughter, and I am so pleased!" Henry exclaimed, and was glad when everyone in earshot erupted into applause, and shouted their congratulatory remarks.

He walked into Anne's rooms feeling uplifted, no longer disappointed by the prospect of having a daughter. He was upset to hear yelling in Anne's rooms, however, and went to stop it, when his mother laid a hand across his chest to stop it, silently instructed him to listen from beyond the curtain before acting.

"Wipe that smile off your face girl! You promised him a son, what do you think is going to happen now? You think that he will love you, and your _daughter, _just as it was before? No, you insolent fool! He will be disappointed, and seek the company of our enemies' daughters. Why wasn't it a son?!" male voice all but spat, one that Henry and Elizabeth both recognized as Thomas Boleyn's.

"Father, stop it. She's just given birth, let the Duke react before you jump to conclusions," a female voice, Mary Carey both of them presumed, jumped to Anne's defense.

"Silence! I did not ask for you to speak. You will presume that his grace is happy about this, Anne, that would be unwise. Since you have already failed me by having a daughter, you need to make sure that he visits your bed as soon as possible..."

No longer able to take much more of it, Elizabeth made her presence known. "You speak rashly, my lord, and disrespectful towards her grace and rudely about her daughter, a lady of York. My lord will apologize," Elizabeth commanded. Seeing that Boleyn's face was dumbstruck, and shocked by the interruption of his conversation with his daughter, Elizabeth raised her voice. "You will apologize, now! I don't know what right you think you have, sir."

"Forgive me, your majesty," noticing Henry's presence as well, Boleyn made another bow towards "and your grace, for my offenses towards you."

"Not to me, Boleyn, but to your daughter, and your granddaughter. If you don't, I will see it to it that you are not rewarded by my son, the King, for your daughter's elevation," Elizabeth threatened, not accepting his cop-out. Even if he was her father, he was of a lower rank than her, and had no right to verbally abuse her in such a way. She knew that Arthur was planning to ennoble Boleyn after Anne gave birth, and one word by her would stop it.

"Forgive me, your grace, my lady," Boleyn humbled, embarrassed by having to apologize to his daughter and to an infant.

"We accept your apology," Anne regally announced, holding her hand out for her father to kiss, hurt by his remarks but grateful to Elizabeth for handling everything in the best way she could. She was so glad that even though Elizabeth gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, she knew when to lay down the law. After her father kissed her hand, "You may leave me now," Anne requested, feeling elated when her father bowed before her and left, and she giggled when Henry purposely ran into him, hard, on the way towards her bed. She no longer felt afraid of her father's reaction; there was nothing he could do to hurt her any longer.

"Thank you," Anne mouthed before turning her attention towards Henry. She had thought long and hard about the words she was going to use to address him, to greet him. "She is very healthy, a credit to you," Anne complimented. She was going to apologize to him, but she didn't feel the need to. It wasn't her fault that their child was a female, and she didn't feel the need to apologize for such a perfect daughter.

"And to you, my love. I'm so proud of you. May I hold her?" Henry requested, not wanting to rip their daughter out of Anne's arms, but he felt so overwhelmed and he wanted to examine her more closely, to figure out a name, although he already had one in mind. He gently accepted the warm bundle, and smiled down at his beautiful daughter. "Have you thought about what you were going to name her, sweetheart?" Henry asked, admiring his newborn daughter.

"Elizabeth, for your mother, and for both of mine," Anne explained. There was no other alternative; she couldn't imagine naming her daughter anything else. She noticed the tears in her mother-in-law's eyes, and reached out to grab her hand.

"I am honored," Elizabeth gushed.

"Lady Elizabeth of York. Just as great as her grandmother and namesake before her." Henry stated, and knew that it would be true.

_Done! I hope you guys all enjoyed this. The first section was sort of filler/examining a bit more closely into the Boleyn family, plus I wanted to find a way to introduce some more elements from the series into this fic. I'm not going to go too in-depth into it, but I thought I'd introduce it and see where it takes me. As for the birth and stuff, I hope it was well-written and wasn't too rushed. Next chapter will have Arthur/Katherine reaction to Elizabeth's birth, and the introduction of her godparents. Until next time, please review! I'd love to hear what you thought :)_


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur everybody! I would like to apologize for the less than speediness of this update- school started and things all the sudden got super crazy. I had to finish all of my college applications plus all these super hard classes I signed up for, even though senior year is supposed to be fun! And as some of you may not know, I'm a cheerleader, and my practices started becoming really long. To make a long story short, I've been really busy, and will be busy for a while. I love this story and I will stay as devoted to it as possible, but updates won't be as regular as you may like. Not to mention I've had writer's block, so hopefully this chapter turns out okay.

On an unrelated note: **OVER 400 REVIEWS!** **You guys are incredible**. I hope you all continue to read, review, and enjoy this story! Thanks to ReganX for her guidance, and to TrivalQueen for listening to me ramble.

_Disclaimer_: This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;]

* * *

**Hampton Court**

_The Same Day_

Anne couldn't stop staring at the bundle in her arms, the precious little girl that she had given birth to just hours before. The hustle and bustle of her ladies as they hurried to scrub her linens and gown, still soaked with blood, was lost to her as she stared into her Elizabeth's crystal blue eyes. She didn't think it was possible to love someone this much and all anticipated disappointment about having a daughter was non-existent in Anne's mind.

The midwife had praised Elizabeth after things had calmed down, once Henry left to go and fetch a "surprise" for her and his mother accompanied him. The midwife assured Anne that her daughter was one of the healthiest babies she had ever seen, and that even though the astrologer had predicted incorrectly, that she was blessed to have such a child. She told Anne that many women did not always carry their first child to term, especially a mother under as much stress and pressure as Anne had been under while she was pregnant.

Anne couldn't say that she was unhappy with the turn of events. The only person to express doubt and displeasure over her daughter's sex was her father, but Anne had come to except that from him. He never put faith in her marriage, and he didn't believe that a daughter would bring him the same advantage as if it had been a son. As if he was the one who had to carry the child and then give birth! However, just because it didn't surprise Anne, didn't mean it didn't hurt her. She had never felt like so much of a failure before in her life. She always relished her status as her father's favorite child, the cleverest of all of her siblings and the apple of her father's eye. Times had changed for the worse, as his cruel reaction to Elizabeth's birth showed.

Anne cuddled Elizabeth close to her breast, savoring the feeling of having her child close to her. Still weary from the childbirth, she felt her eyes flutter shut but she refused to close them. Linacre had given her a tonic to dull the pain but she fought it off with every resolution she had. She had to be with Elizabeth for longer, it was too soon for her to end this day. Nevertheless, she felt herself doze off, not even noticing when a midwife took Elizabeth out of her arms. When she awoke the next time, it was to the boisterous sound of male laughter, one much more mature than the other.

Forcing her eyes to focus, she squealed with delight when she saw who was with her husband. "Hal! My darling boy!" Anne greeted her stepson with much delight, suddenly awake. She held out her arms for Hal to fall into, and made a move to make room for Hal on the bed, when a sudden pain shot through her. She tried to hide her discomfort, but it was not lost to either of them.

"Sweetheart, there are plenty of chairs. Don't worry about it," Henry stressed, pulling up a chair on the side of Anne's bed, and pulled Hal on his lap. Hal, who was distressed by Anne's pain and by the traces of blood in the water in the basins outside of his mama's room, was worried about her and confused about why people kept telling him he had a baby sister.

"Mama, who hurt you? What's wrong?!" Hal asked, very concerned about the look of pain she shot when she attempted to move. If someone hurt his mama, he wasn't going to let them get away with it. She was the Duchess of York, after all!

"It's alright sweetheart, your baby sister's birth just hurt me, that's all," when she noticed Hal looked shock at the idea that his little sister could hurt Anne, she hastened to reassure him, "but don't worry, I expected that. You'll understand when you are older."

Satisfied with this explanation, Hal moved onto the next topic. "Mama, where's my little sister?" Hal asked, causing both his father to pick him up, wordlessly, over to a large white basket, which he later learned was called a cradle, and lifted him up enough so he could see the sleeping figure inside of it.

"Her name is Elizabeth, Hal, she's a brand new baby and your sister," Henry explained, smiling as his son looked on in awe. "Isn't she beautiful?" Henry questioned, thinking that his daughter sort of looked like an angel, a true gift from God, even if he had expected a son.

For now, this was more than enough.

Hal nodded and Henry walked back over the chair, where Anne was looking on at the touching scene, smiling. "How do you like the new nursery, sweetheart?" Anne asked once he returned and was seated happily on Henry's lap. When Henry found out she was pregnant, he began revision right away on the nursery, and explained to Anne that the child could live there, at Hampton. They wouldn't have to go through the pain of separation and could easily monitor the events of their children.

Although the nursery was enough for his bastard son to befit his status, he wanted to make sure that his legitimate children were provided with a nursery to rival any royal child's. He wanted to make clear to everyone who may visit that his daughter was going to be the future Princess of England, even though at the time he thought it would be a boy. It was an added bonus that all he had to do was take a brief walk through his home to get to where his children would be.

When he was a child, he remembered how he hardly saw his mother and father, and how much that hurt him. He always had so much to tell them, but they rarely made the journey to Eltham to visit their children. While he had a wonderful nurse, who took as much care of him as he required, it didn't make up for the fact that for a while, his mother was a void presence in his life. He certainly didn't want his children to be deprived of their mother at an early age, thinking how close he was to his own mother.

"I like it very much mama, there is much more room and the beds are a lot nicer. Is baby 'Lisbeth going to be sharing it with me?" Hal asked, having trouble pronouncing his new sister's full name, only able to get out the last part. He understood his mistake after his papa gave a hearty chuckle, and he felt his checks grow hot. "I mean, Elizabeth," he amended, but the damage had already been done.

"No, I like the name Lisbeth very much Hal, it would keep us from getting her confused with your grandmamma in any case," Anne comforted, not thinking it was very nice that Henry laughed, although she was having trouble keeping her laughter in as well. "We shall call her Lisbeth until she wants us to stop and yes she will be sharing it with you" Anne proposed and explained. She hoped that Hal would be happy about having company.

Hal nodded, glad that his mama wasn't laughing at him, although he understood that his mistake was a silly one, she was glad that his mama amended it so it didn't seem as silly and uneducated. He only wanted to please and impress his parents, or at least the women he considered his mother and his papa, who had invested a great deal on his education. He had lessons everyday since he turned three, and although he enjoyed them, they put a lot of pressure on him.

It upset him, however, that people in the nursery were not paying as much attention him as they used to in recent days. All of his attendants were having a great deal of fuss about the new baby that was surely coming soon, and new furniture was being moved into the nursery and they moved a lot of Hal's stuff around. Although he was happy for his new baby sister, he didn't like the fact that nobody seemed to notice his existence anymore.

What hurt him the worse though, was when he overheard his attendants discussing how Lisbeth's birth would affect him:

"_Now that the Duchess is with child, I suppose the Duke's bastard will be moved out of here," one of them speculated while they assumed Hal was sleeping. Hal wanted to demand who the Duke's bastard was, but he was all the sudden aware that they were talking about him. "He's nearly four now, and soon her grace will realize what kind of mistake she made treating him as her own. She'll probably become defensive over her own children, not having a care for little FitzYork." _

"_I'm sure most of us will be moved to taking care of the Duke's child once he is born anyway," his governess, a lady he never liked much anyway, replied. Hal knew that he was the Duke's child, but he also knew that he wasn't the Duchess'. However, that never stopped him from viewing her as his mama, since he didn't really remember his real one. He never felt so ashamed of it until that moment. "And the boy will be taken back to Eltham, where he belongs. Even the Queen apparently told the Duchess that this was the best course of action. The Duchess has a kind heart but not even she will tolerate the idea of her child being treated on equally footing as the boy." _

"_No lady in her position would. I'm sure they won't outright remove the boy though. Perhaps they'll weave their child in here, for us to take care of, until it becomes too crowded and FitzYork is forced out anyway. That way, they don't look cruel and the boy doesn't become resentful of his father," one of the other ladies suggested. Hal felt tears sting at his eyes, but he fought them away. He didn't want them to know that he was awake. _

"_The Duke is sparing no expense in providing for his upcoming child, as you can see by these improvements. Our status will also rise too ladies, and in this case, I highly doubt that we will be taking care of the bastard and the Duke's legitimate child as if they are of the same birth," his governess finished before walking into his bedchamber to wake him for the day. Hal furiously wiped the tears out of his eyes and demanded to sleep for a few more moments, so he could compose himself. _

"I don't want to leave the nursery! Please don't make me! I like living here with you papa I promise I won't be mean to Lisbeth and I'll be a good boy I swear!" Hal protested, the words from months ago coming back with fierce emotion. He promised himself that he wouldn't repeat what he heard, but he couldn't help but be affected by those words. He loved living near his papa and his mama and he didn't want either of them to stop loving him as much as they did now just because Lisbeth was born.

"Hal, what on earth are you talking about? You are staying here! We aren't moving you," Anne comforted, confused. She looked to Henry, who was rubbing his son's back with an equally dumbfounded look on his face. It suddenly dawned on Anne that Hal supposed that she didn't want him around anymore because she had her own child now, and she was sure that his attendants were speculating around him, not thinking that he was bright enough to understand. However, she let Hal finish before jumping to conclusions.

"They told me... they said that you wouldn't want me around anymore mama because your child was more important. They called me a bastard and they said that I wasn't equal to Lisbeth," Hal explained, crying into his papa's lap after he explained. He didn't want to leave, and he certainly didn't want his mama to stop loving him. He was so lonely in-between the time his real mama died and his mama now came into his life.

"Hal, you listen to me. Nothing in this world will make me stop loving you. You will be sharing your nursery with Lisbeth and you won't be leaving. They were wrong to even think that I would leave you. Your papa and I love having you around, and we love you very much," Anne explained, pulling Hal into a hug, feeling furious at the women in his household for so cruelly referring to Hal, and for thinking so poorly of Henry and her.

Henry had also made it clear that he didn't want Hal to be referred to as a bastard, and that the right time would come for his birth to be explained to him, and why when Henry became King he wouldn't become a prince like his sister would become a princess. However, it was far too daunting of a subject to be brought up when Hal was still so young, and all Henry wanted was for his son to be loved. He didn't plan on sending him back to Eltham after his child was born, or any other children Anne would have. He wanted them all to be brought up together and to love each other. Details would be explained later, they didn't need to be explained now.

"Hal, we love you just as much as Lisbeth. Don't you forget that," Henry stressed again, glad when Hal favored him with his adorable smile.

Whatever he was going to say next, however, was interrupted by Mary Carey coming into the room. "Sister, Mary and Charles Brandon are here to see you. May I let them in?"

"Yes of course!" Anne insisted, quickly explaining to Hal that it was his aunt and uncle and reading herself again for another visitor. She knew that she probably looked extremely tired and less than her usual self, but that didn't mean that she wanted to greet her sister-in-law in a poor state.

"Oh Anne, what wonderful news!" Mary crowed as soon as she entered, running up to Anne's other side and giving her a smacking kiss on the cheek. "We came as soon as we could. What did you call her?" Mary questioned.

"We called her Elizabeth, but Hal has suggested that we call her Lisbeth, for short," Anne explained, giving a sly wink at Hal. "She is the Lady Elizabeth of York, just like her grandmother," Anne elaborated. She enjoyed the fact that her daughter had the same exact name as a lady who impacted Henry's life so much, and molded him into the person he was. It was so fitting. In a way, she thought that's why Henry was so reconciled to the idea of a daughter.

Mary walked over to the cradle and stared down at the sleeping figure. "She's beautiful. A true Tudor, Henry, you should be proud," Mary stressed, looking over to her brother, who she could tell was beaming with pride.

"I am, she is a credit to our family, a welcome addition," Henry beamed with pride. Now that he was okay with the idea of a daughter, he wanted to praise her at any given opportunity. She was a healthy child, a beautiful baby, and he knew that someday she would grow up to a great woman.

Mary let out a wistful sigh. "I so want a daughter. Don't you, Charles?" Mary questioned, testing Charles' attitude. She was aware that most men favored sons over daughters, at least wanting one male heir, especially highborn men. However, she had given birth to Edward as her first child, and any children they had next, Mary secretly wished they were girls, so she could relate to them, and was secretly envious of Anne's beautiful newborn daughter and how well Henry was taking it.

Charles, over by Henry and Hal, was about to give Anne the proper greeting and sing Elizabeth's praises after having a good look at her, was taken aback by the question. "You know I will be pleased with any healthy child," Charles replied, smiling up at Mary, however, Mary could tell it didn't reach his eyes, as if he was warning her not to speak so rashly again about their own affairs in front of Henry and Anne. "She is beautiful, your grace," Charles turned to Anne and kissed her hand.

Anne nodded her head and gave a wide smile towards Charles, with albeit of amusement. "Are you with child again?" Anne asked Mary, completely ignoring the fact that Charles was clearly uncomfortable, and that Henry probably wouldn't like sharing the spotlight of his daughter's birth with his sister's possible announcement. Nevertheless, her curiosity had been sparked.

Mary didn't give any answer, instead just smiled. "She'll be a beautiful princess someday," she instead answered, smiling down at little Elizabeth. "Would you like to be a princess someday, little Lisbeth?" Mary rhetorically questioned the baby, who didn't even wake at the sound of her aunt's voice. "Did you tell Arthur and Katherine? Are they on their way?" Mary asked, not even thinking of her eldest brother and how he would react to this, as well as his wife.

"I have sent a messenger, I expect them soon," Henry asked, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. He didn't plan on rubbing it in to Katherine that his wife had given birth to a healthy baby while she couldn't, as he was sure that his mother and even Anne wouldn't be pleased with him about that, and he didn't want to hurt Arthur's feelings. Nevertheless, he was sure the idea wouldn't be lost on Katherine.

"Well then, we best be going. Congratulations, once again," Mary swept a shallow curtsy to her brother and Anne, ruffled Hal's hair, and left with her husband in tow. She didn't want to be there when Katherine arrived, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hold her tongue. She never had forgiven Katherine for her presumptuous nature and her harsh words after Mary braved death to marry her love. She didn't want to ruin Anne's day and Henry's elated feeling, so she thought it best to just leave.

"That was odd," Anne remarked after Mary left so abruptly.

"She has never forgiven Katherine for her banishment. My sister has so much pride it's almost painful," Henry explained. "But it is no matter. Arthur and Katherine are my family just as much as anybody else. I want them to share in our joy," Henry, feeling oddly humble, replied. Even if he had to pretend to be humble, he knew it was important if he wanted to continue to enjoy this freedom to not upset the Queen in any way. He was already treading on thin ice with her, and wanted to keep his estate and peerages and knew his brother had the power to take them away.

Above everything else, he didn't want Arthur to try for more children. It was so important that the royal couple stay childless, even if saying that out loud could be considered treasonous, he had never had the crown so close, and he never wanted it so badly. If he could prove to Katherine that he was capable of ruling after Arthur passed, than he wouldn't have to worry about his brother doing anything to harm his chances at becoming the King he always knew he was destined to become.

Now that he had a family, he also wanted to see them in royal marriages, securely vested in the succession. He had something to fight for, and his family's happiness was much more important than his rivalry. He wouldn't be able to imagine the pride he'd feel when he would be able to call Elizabeth a princess, and the son he was sure to have by Anne the Prince of Wales. Moreover, to be seated on that regal throne, next to his love, would be the best feeling in the world. He didn't want anything to ruin the happy future he had planned out for his family.

"I'm glad," Anne replied, feeling at a loss for words but was pleased to know that Henry wasn't going to embarrass Katherine.

Since she wasn't sure when Arthur and Katherine were going to arrive, she requested to hold little Lisbeth again, and introduce her more properly to Hal, so after she was churched and Lisbeth was moved into the nursery, Hal would know her well enough not to feel jealous or worried about his status.

When her sister entered the room a few minutes later, Anne knew what was coming and all the sudden felt her nerves flutter in the pit of her stomach. She had no idea why she was so nervous for the arrival of the King and Queen. "My lady, the King and Queen are here to see the Lady Elizabeth," Mary Carey announced.

"Well, please do show them in," Anne instructed.

"Come now, Lord FitzYork," Hal's governess, who had been waiting in the outer chamber with Anne's ladies, for a measure of privacy, was now back in the room, making a curtsy towards Anne and Henry and reaching out her hand for Hal to take. She assumed that due to the last time that the Queen visited, that nobody would want Hal present when she arrived, for the child's sake and for the whole entire family's sake.

Henry was about to let his governess take him without a word of protest when he realized that it would be a tantamount expression to Katherine, who had dared to question Hal's presence, as well as Hal himself, that he accepted his son into his family without reservation. "No, my lady, it is quite alright. He may stay," Henry politely, but firmly commanded, taking his son's other hand and leading him back towards Anne's bed, but kept him standing. "When the King and Queen come in here, you must make your bow, as you've practiced," Henry explained, and Hal nodded.

Katherine and Arthur entered the room with a commanding presence, but both of them had soft smiles on their faces. Henry and Hal both swept into bows in unison, while Anne had to content herself with dropping her head downcast. "Your majesties," all three of them said at once, and with the flick of Arthur's hand, looked up at him. Henry and Anne were unable to keep their smiles contained.

Arthur was the first one to break the uncomfortable silence. "I believe you have somebody to introduce me to, Henry," Arthur playful requested, giving a little wink at Anne.

Once he heard that Anne had given birth to a daughter, he was nervous about Henry's reaction, knowing that although Arthur accepted his little Mary without question or disappointment, his brother was not the same man as him. However, the message that was delivered to him in the middle of the day did not reveal that Henry was the least bit disappointed in little Elizabeth's birth. In fact, the messenger Henry sent stressed that the Duke was most "joyful" at the birth of his first child by the Duchess. Arthur could only feel joy at this proclamation, pointedly ignoring the fact that nearly ten years ago, he had celebrated the birth of his daughter.

He was also impressed with Katherine's behavior. She was not the least bit upset at the idea of Anne and Henry having children, and did not rejoice in the fact that it was a girl, unlike the boy that Henry confidently predicted months ago. She seemed genuinely happy for Henry and Anne, and even now that it was a reality, she had a smile that was sincere.

"Brother, this your niece, Lady Elizabeth of York, or as Hal has so cleverly decided, Lisbeth for short," Henry introduced. "She is already even showing signs of her namesake's red hair, has Anne's eyes I'm sure, and I see the outline of my chin," Henry praised, not sparing a detail from what he had gathered from his daughter's appearance. "A true Tudor rose."

Arthur walked over to Anne, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Good job, sister," he complimented, knowing how difficult and dangerous childbirth could be. "May I?" he asked, and Anne gently set the child into his arms. Lisbeth, for her part, did not cry out when she was placed into the arms of her uncle from the warm arms of her mother. Instead, she favored Arthur with a gummy smile and gripped his finger with surprising strength. "She's strong," he remarked.

Katherine stood next to her husband, and favored the child with a smile she reserved for only when she was truly happy. "She's a darling baby, Anne. You both must be proud," Katherine embellished.

"We very much are, madam, and thank you," Henry genially replied.

Katherine smiled in return and continued to admire the child. She was a pretty thing, just like her Mary was, only Anne's child was far healthier looking, without the newborn frailties her daughter had. She quickly repressed the tears she was about to spill, knowing that it would be improper. Mary was dead and gone, little Elizabeth was very much alive. She was so happy that Henry was not resentful towards the little baby for not being the son he so desperately wanted, and that Anne was not feeling the sting of not producing a male child. When a baby was as healthy as little Elizabeth, Katherine didn't think there was a need for disappointment.

However, Henry's description of his new daughter is what really killed her. She remembered the moments after Mary was born like it was yesterday. Arthur's wide smile, his lack of disappointment at their heir's sex, and how happy she felt that she had finally given England a royal child. Most vividly, she remembered the way it felt to have her daughter placed in her arms after a long and painful birth, and how much it all melted it away with one look from her child.

It was as if she was reliving it, only Anne was the one with the smile on her face, and Henry was the doting father.

"What do you have planned for the christening?" Arthur asked. Knowing Henry, Arthur was sure that he would want to squash all doubts that he was not pleased with his daughter, and so he expected a grand affair, more so than the one he would have given for a son.

"I have not discussed with Wolsey yet, but I have thought of having it in two weeks. I want no expense spared; jousts, masques, feasts, and of course, a group of noble ladies carrying my daughter's train. I would like Hal to carry the baptismal cloth as well," Henry explained. He had discussed none of this with Anne, but he was sure that she would agree that their daughter deserved a grand christening, to prove that they were just as much of royalty as Arthur and Katherine, and that Henry was not in the least bit upset about Elizabeth's sex.

"Sounds like a wonderful time. We are most anxious for it," Arthur explained, setting baby Lisbeth back with her mother. "If you would excuse us though, we should get going. It will be dark soon, and we do need to take the barge back. She's a lovely baby, and I congratulate you both," Arthur said, kissing the baby one more time as well as Anne and Henry, before taking Katherine with him and leaving.

"That went well," Katherine remarked on the way back to the barge, trying hard not to bring up the mixed emotions both of them were feeling in that room.

"I was so happy Henry wasn't resentful of the child's sex," Arthur remarked. If Henry was angry and resentful about his first child being a daughter, it would have made the experience uncomfortable, because Arthur would give just about anything to have his daughter back. He didn't know if he would have been able to tolerate it if Henry was in anyway rude towards Anne for not giving him the son he desired.

"It's clear he's quite pleased with himself, given the scale of the christening he's going to give her," Katherine remarked, trying hard not to sound too angry by this. She knew that Henry's money was his to do with as he pleased, but it concerned her that he was so wasteful with it. While the birth of Lisbeth should be celebrated gloriously, she thought Henry was going a bit overboard with it. It didn't bode well for the future of their kingdom if Henry was so wasteful with their well-saved wealth.

"He'll learn that the money could have been put to better uses," Arthur offhandedly remarked, not catching that Katherine was not pleased with the idea of such a lavish christening. As far as he was concerned, Henry's mistakes were his own to make.

"Perhaps it would be wise to advise him, as he is your heir, that his wealth should be more wisely concentrated," Katherine suggested. After all, if Henry wanted to become King someday, he would have to learn to be responsible, and money was one of the most important things needed to manage a kingdom. It was not an attempt to control his life, and if Arthur phrased it properly, it could just sound like brotherly advice.

"Oh Katherine, that wouldn't be wise at all. Henry won't like that. Let him have his moment, we should be happy that he is celebrating his daughter's birth, not ignoring it or scaling it down. He's young still; let him have his youth. He'll see how far that will take him for himself."

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_Two weeks later_

When she was a child, Katherine of Aragon learned how important it was to hide her true emotions when those emotions weren't what she was supposed to be feeling.

At the christening of her niece, she knew she was supposed to be happy. It was a grand event, after all, and Henry clearly did not spare any expense for it. As Arthur told her, it wasn't a bad thing that he was being wasteful, since it meant that he wasn't disappointed by the birth of his daughter. Katherine was happy that their heir wasn't selfish or cruel towards his wife about something that she couldn't control, such as the sex of their children.

Nevertheless, there were other things about this christening that bothered her. Not only was it clear that Henry was using his daughter's birth as an opportunity to prove that he was truly Arthur's heir, which she could tolerate almost, it was that he was pointedly distanced himself from Arthur's chief ally- her home country of Spain.

The Lady Elizabeth had three godparents; her grandmother Elizabeth of York, her cousin King James V of Scotland, and the Queen of France. Katherine was aware that after spending so much time in France during her youth, Anne had French sentiments, something that still made her uncomfortable. She was sure that Henry, with Wolsey's insistence, purposely left out Spain in order to show that Henry's reign would not be one that thought kindly on Spain. Doubtless that Anne wanted to honor her former mistress by requesting that she stand godmother, and Katherine could understand that, if that was the only motive behind it.

It didn't bother her that neither she nor Arthur was picked. She knew that Henry would eventually honor them; by asking them to stand as godparents to the son he was sure he was going to have. It just irked her that Spain was left out of England's future at the moment, and that she was unable to, once again, advocate the interests of her home country, which was one of the reasons she was sent to marry Arthur all those years ago.

Nevertheless, like the Queen she was taught to be, she smiled upon the ceremony.

Lisbeth's train, like Henry had promised, was a procession of a dozen or so noble ladies, countesses and other such women of the realm, who were all thrilled to be included in the baptism of England's future Princess. The palace at Hampton was filled with people from all over England to see baby Lisbeth welcomed into God's fold. Katherine couldn't help but notice how pleased the Boleyns looked at the scale of the event, since she was sure that both George, who she also noticed had a dark scowl on his face every time his wife spoke to him; as well as Sir Thomas, were expecting to be honored due to Anne's elevation. She was sure they would have sweated the most if Henry was in anyway unhappy about Lisbeth's sex.

The one time she truly smiled throughout the whole ceremony was when Elizabeth of York gingerly held her namesake over the golden font, after she had been stripped of the beautiful gown that Anne had personally sewn, and the water was poured over her tiny body and she let out a great cry, symbolizing that the devil had left her body. Katherine was a deeply spiritual woman, and she was very happy to see such a beautiful child be cleansed of Satan. It was also an adorable touch that Hal seemed genuinely concerned that his new baby sister was crying, and he was going to rage at Wolsey for hurting his sister. Anne's sister had to explain that it was completely normal, and that Lisbeth was not hurt, and that it was a good thing.

As custom, Elizabeth of York, as the acting godmother, held the child in her arms to lead the procession, along with the two ambassadors from France and Scotland who were acting as proxies for their masters. Katherine and Arthur followed behind, and the rest of the nobles filed in order towards Anne's room, where both she and Henry were waiting for their daughter to be returned to them. The whole ceremony was like a misty memory of Mary's christening for both Arthur and Katherine, and both of them had to struggle to keep their tears at the idea of it from falling. The fresh wounds of their daughter's death had been reopened.

"Your grace," everyone, except Katherine and Arthur, swept into bows and curtsies at the sight of Henry and Anne. Elizabeth of York then returned her granddaughter to her proud parents, and said her congratulatory remarks. Anne thanked her, and the two ambassadors, for acting as sponsors to their child.

She also paid special attention to the French ambassador. "Your Excellency, I wish for you to convey my warmest regards to my former mistress, Queen Claude, and thank her for her lovely gift and letter. It means so much to me that she remembers my time in France, and that she supports my new marriage," Anne greeted the ambassador in flawless French, which only the extremely educated in the room were able to follow.

When Henry asked for suggestions on godparents to take to Wolsey, Anne suggested Elizabeth of York, of course, and Queen Claude. She wanted to pay her respects to her time in France, which had shaped her into the woman she was. Wolsey, she knew, would also be pleased with the idea of a French Queen standing as godmother to Henry's child. Henry had wanted Wolsey to be the godfather, but Wolsey suggested King James of Scotland, who was Henry's nephew, to stand as godfather. Wolsey wanted their first child to have royal sponsors, and Anne and Henry could do nothing but agree.

"Your grace, the Queen was so pleased to hear that the little Boleyn girl had risen to such new heights, and had borne such a wonderful daughter. She sends her warmest regards and so does the King," the ambassador replied.

Anne smiled and dismissed everyone in the room, except for Arthur and Katherine, who had to dismiss themselves, as it was out of their power. They did not want to linger for too long though, feeling so overwhelmed by the whole thing, as if Henry and Anne were reliving their experiences, so they kissed their niece and were gone. It was only the Hal, Lisbeth, Henry and Anne left.

"She did so good mama! She is going to be just like you when she's older," Hal gushed.

"Well, she already has her mother's looks," Henry replied, kissing Anne's hand and taking the baby. "And with God's help, you'll have a baby brother soon Hal." Henry suggested, and for the first time, hinted out loud that Lisbeth wasn't going to be enough.

Anne felt her stomach sink.

_Alright, well, that's it for this chapter that took me forever to craft. I hope you all enjoyed it, the first section is ridiculously long but I couldn't find a way to break it up. I hope everyone's reaction was realistic as well, if you couldn't tell, I had a lot of trouble with it. I have no idea what's in store for next chapter, but once I figure it out, I will be speedier with the update! Please don't forget to review :) They make my day! Until next time everyone.... _


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Welcome back to King Arthur II! Thanks for all of the awesome reviews last chapter, having this many reviews is really just an insane realization for me and I seriously love you all. I hope you all continue to read, review, favorite, and alert the story; and I hope you all like this chapter. I've been having trouble crafting each one, as I'm getting much closer to the end of the story :/ Sad, but all fun/good things must come to an end.

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;] **Please note the time jump.**

I feel the need to do this before every chapter, but I just have to thank ReganX for her constant help and guidance.

Without further ado, the next installment of King Arthur II! Please don't forget to review, and I hope you all enjoy :)

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Hampton Court

_March 5, 1527_

"The Duchess of York has come to distribute alms to you poor, honest, and God-loving subjects."

The groans of gratitude and relief were heard throughout the hall, and Anne couldn't help but smile. She knew that with a great amount of wealth like she and Henry were in possession of, could be put to great uses for the surrounding area. It was something that she had often wanted to do, and she knew that if she did it, the people would be able to endear themselves more towards Henry and Anne when the day came for them to become King and Queen of England.

She knew that the common folks were simple people; although honest and hard-working only a handful of them could claim any sort of education, so she knew it would be no great hardship to win them over with money and other charitable works. People from all over England went to Lambeth Palace whenever Queen Katherine disturbed alms to the poor herself, and Anne thought it would be a good thing to replicate. Anne also used the fact that she had a smaller group of people gathering to her Hampton court location so she could afford to be more generous.

She had a nagging voice in the back of her head telling her that perhaps it wasn't very kind to compete with Katherine, considering that Katherine was a very pious and respectable woman, one of the most devout Queens in all of Christendom; yet she couldn't help herself. If she wanted the common people to accept her as Queen someday without reservation, on a count of her less-than-royal birth, even though the fact that she was English could work in her favor, she couldn't afford to be frugal, not when she had the opportunity to be so generous.

"God bless you your grace," one woman reverently cried out to her after she had taken an awed second look at the amount of gold coins sitting in her hand, a small fortune to her in just one day. She turned to the lady next to her, and spoke in a loud whisper, loud enough for Anne to hear, although Anne figured it wasn't intended for her ears. "This is far more than the paltry sum Queen Katherine gives out, and even more than the Queen Elizabeth used to give."

Anne wanted to say something on behalf of her mother-in-law, knowing that it wasn't her fault that the alms given to the poor during her reign as Queen left something to be desired. It was only because Henry's father was such a miser that the impoverished people of England did not receive as much alms as they may have gotten. King Arthur was a frugal man but he still had a care for the common people who were so supportive of his kingship, so Queen Katherine could afford to be generous.

Yet Anne in her heart relished the idea of being the most generous lady in the kingdom, above the Queen, and above even her dearly beloved mother-in-law. It felt good to be the one to be honored, and she knew that with some luck and continued support of the commons that she would be a well loved Queen. She knew that Henry had the money to be generous, more so than King Arthur, and that he still was unable to say no to her, even though they had been married for nearly three years now, and she had yet to give him a son.

It was not as if she wasn't trying, and she was glad that Henry recognized this. She often invited him to stay in her bed for the night, and it was rare that either of them spent a night away from each other. For two years after Elizabeth's birth, she hadn't been able to fall pregnant, yet she felt as though she could be now, though she didn't dare to voice her suspicions to anyone yet. Her course had not come for two months, and at first she thought it was the stress of the Christmas season, which although was joyous and fun still had its far share of tension for Henry, who was constantly trying to compete with Arthur. Yet the month after Christmas, there was still no sign of her monthly courses, and she had begun to feel ill in the mornings, like she had with Elizabeth.

She didn't want to get her hopes up, yet she knew that Henry wanted a son so badly, and she knew that their marriage would begin to suffer if she did not produce one soon. He had been patient and understanding over the past two years of constant failures and disappointments; Anne's biggest fear was that his patience would dwindle and he would lose interest in her and Lisbeth. He had been such a doting father, and their extremely intelligent two-year old daughter was fond of him.

Yet, she could see the signs of impatience growing beneath his loving and kind surface.

He wasn't as attentive as he was in the early years of their marriage, and was often sporting with his friends during the daytime rather than spending time with their daughter and Hal; unlike Anne who was in the nursery for a large period of time each day. Occasionally he would accompany her, but he was distant and aloof; even though he loved his children and enjoyed spending time with them, and Anne could still tell he was still very much in love with her. He was still a loving husband and father, and Anne couldn't complain, but it wasn't the same. He often dropped hints that he expected a son, and he was often disappointed that Anne failed month after month to deliver happy news to him, even if most of the time he tired to suppress it, it was to no avail. Anne could tell when he was disappointed.

One thing that Anne had to be thankful for is that she knew Henry was not being unfaithful towards her. He still viewed her as the only woman in the world that he had eyes for, even if that woman had not given him what he wanted yet, he wasn't prepared to go into another woman's bed; not yet at least, Anne thought cynically.

Her sister-in-law married pulled her out of her thoughts as she reached the end of the long line of poor, desolate people. "That was far bigger turn out than last time we came here. Great job Anne, you seem to have a certain appeal," Mary slightly teased. Both of them knew it was because Anne had more money and that her marriage held a fairytale appeal that more common folk were gathering outside of the chapel at Hampton to receive her alms.

Anne was very grateful to Mary for helping her with disturbing alms, since she was still unsure about the customs of royalty, not being born into it or receiving formal training. Elizabeth of York had been very helpful before the days of her marriage, but she still could not cover all of the formalities. She was glad that her children would have a governess who knew the protocol, since she doubted that she could teach them herself when the time came.

Mary, however, this time around stayed back a bit more, not wanting to steal Anne's spotlight by unintentionally drawing attention to her growing belly. She was pregnant yet again, having two miscarriages in succession that would have been boys; Anne knew that Mary was secretly hoping that this one would be a girl. When they went to the nursery together to visit their children, she paid a great deal of attention towards her son, as was natural, but she also took a great interest in Lisbeth. Anne could tell that Mary wanted a daughter who she would wrap her mother around her finger and that Mary could dress in fine gowns and jewelry, now that she had the money to. Anne had convinced both Arthur and Henry to give Mary a steady pension, since she had already paid the price for marrying without royal permission, and shortly after, Mary was living like she used to.

Anne simply laughed at Mary's statement. "How is the child?" she asked, feeling slightly envious for a moment that Mary was pregnant for the third time in her marriage, but she shook those ideas out of her head. She knew that she and Henry were destined to have more children, and she was fairly confident that she was carrying the son Henry desired in her womb at that very moment.

Mary, knowing about her brother's desires, gave Anne a sad smile. "The child is strong, gives me no rest. Charles isn't as thrilled as I'd like him to be, he seems to have lost interest in me and our son, and this child. The novelty of marrying a princess has apparently worn out for him, since he takes common sluts to bed with him all of the time," Mary bitterly spat out. She wasn't jealous of Anne's marriage to Henry, how could she be, considering all the pressure Anne was under? Yet she wished that Charles would be faithful and attentive like he used to be, but the warning signs were always there that he would not be a loyal husband.

He was so quick to say how in love he was with Mary, and push the idea of marriage on her. She knew now, of course, that it was because he knew that she would never go to bed with a man who wasn't her husband, and that she was in a vulnerable position because she didn't want to go overseas to marry the Emperor. She would have done anything to get out of it, and Charles' option seemed feasible. He took advantage of her youth, her wistful nativity, and her desire for him since she was a child to marry royally, and to have a beautiful wife at his side. Charles had gained a great deal from their marriage, and it hurt to know that it was probably the only reason he married her.

She wouldn't take back her marriage; she still loved her husband dearly and knew that despite himself, he loved her too. She was still in England with her family and didn't suffer any long-term consequences for marrying a commoner, and she had also opened up an opportunity for her dearly beloved brother Henry to marry a woman that he loved despite her birth. She would have hated to be married to the

Emperor, who would have pressured her for a son, like Henry was pressuring Anne. She just wished that Charles wasn't so fickle, and that he was kinder towards her, and spent more time with her. She wished that he hadn't simply taken advantage of her youth years ago, and that he married her because he had the same strong feelings that Mary harbored. Clearly, he could not keep himself faithful to one woman.

"Mary, there is no need to be concerned about your husband's nature. Think of the child growing inside of you, and their well-being. That's really all that matters," Anne attempted to comfort her, not wanting Mary to go on another one of her tirades about her husband's unfaithfulness. She understood how upset Mary was, how upset she would be in her position, yet she knew it wasn't worth getting upset about. Mary wanted more children, and if she continued to get upset about Charles, the risk for a miscarriage was heightened.

Mary simply nodded, not wanting to get into this conversation with Anne. She loved her sister-in-law dearly now, and considered her a close friend, yet she knew that Anne had no idea what she was going through. Henry had never even considered straying; the worst that Anne could boast was that Henry got annoyed every month that Anne did not prove to be fruitful, his impatience growing each day. While she did not envy Anne, nor could she relate with her, she knew that same was true for Anne and her predicament, and she did not want to hear her empty assurances.

Both of the women continued their walk in thoughtful silence about their husbands and their upcoming children on the way to the nursery, where Elizabeth of York and their current children were waiting for them.

"Mama!" all three children yelled in unison, running up to hug and kiss their respective mothers.

Seven year old Edward Brandon ran up to Mary, sparing the formalities and hugging his mother, who came to see him everyday with his Auntie Anne, but who he was still excited about seeing. Like usual, his papa was not with his mama, but that was okay. He didn't mind just spending time with his mama. It seemed to Edward that his papa was not very interested in him, and when he was younger, it used to hurt his feelings. However, he was a bigger now and didn't need to worry about it. His papa would come more when he was older and his Uncle Henry was King, so Lady Bryan never failed to tell him. Lady Bryan was little Lisbeth's governess but she still liked to spend time with all of the children, and Edward liked her better than his governess, although he never said so out loud.

Hal and Lisbeth, on the other hand, had been trained by their governesses to show respect to their mother before running up to hug her, since their mama was more important than Edward's. However, like usual, their bow and curtsy were clumsy and the word mama was shouted in excitement instead of your grace. Anne couldn't say she minded, in public she was sure the children would be formal with her and Henry, but in private she hated the idea of formality with her children and she knew Henry felt the same way.

Like usual, her attention turned first to her daughter, but it was not because she was excluding Hal. Lisbeth was just the first one to run up and sit in Anne's lap once she was seated, and Hal just usually contented himself with sitting next to Anne and giving her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "I trust you like the new gown I gave to you yesterday, Lisbeth?" Anne questioned. She was pleased that when Lisbeth turned two, her first demand for her birthday present was a new gown, which Anne personally designed. Since then, she had been designing gowns for her daughter, since when she was her age she also had a great deal of interest in fashion, but her father did not always have the proper funds to nurture her folly.

"Oh mama it's so lovely!" Lisbeth crowed. Her mama's gowns were always the best, just like her papa's choices in jewelry always looked the prettiest. Her mama's jewelry and hers were always the best at the court, so her papa told her, and he was always right. "Is papa not coming to visit today?" Lisbeth asked at the thought her papa. She loved her mama, but she liked it when they were together.

"I'm not sure sweetheart, maybe he'll come later," Anne replied, not wanting to worry Lisbeth, although she did wish Henry would stop by. It wasn't that she was worried about him not loving them, as was evident by the splendor of the nursery, but she just desperately wanted to spend time with him and the children together, as a family, more often. "Why don't you go try on your new gown, Lisbeth, while grandmamma and I talk? And you Hal, why don't you show me your translations?" Anne requested, smiling as both children ran off to go and impress their mother.

"How did the alms-giving go today?" Elizabeth asked once the children were out of ear-shot. It wasn't as if their conversation was going to be one not meant for children's ears, it was just that she didn't want the hassle of being interrupted, as much as she loved her grandchildren, answering questions every five seconds got tiresome.

Mary, overhearing her mother's conversation with Anne, felt the need to answer. "Far more people came today, and yet we still had enough money for everyone. Anne just has a certain grace that Queen Katherine lacks," Mary laughed. Mary felt the need to just add critique against her eldest sister-in-law, who she could never forgive for her behavior regarding her marriage. She loved the idea of Anne outdoing her, and she loved the idea of playing a part of it.

"Mary..." Elizabeth began, but she was cut off by her over-zealous youngest daughter.

"Oh mother, don't look so scandalized. It's just a bit of sport with the Queen," Mary defended. She knew that her mother would be adverse the idea of a competition among the family, since she wanted nothing more than for everyone to get along and be united again, like they were when they were younger, but Mary didn't see the harm in it. It was not as if it would harm anybody, the Queen had no idea about the extent of the alms-giving and it would only benefit the poor of the country if there was competition.

"It would be selfish of me to withhold money that Henry and I have just sitting around. We owe it to the people. Besides, even if it does make me look more attractive compared to the Queen; that is not the only goal. I want there to be a clamoring support for me once I take the throne," Anne explained. She did not want Elizabeth to think poorly of her, but at the same time, what she was doing was important and she wanted to continue.

"Girls," Elizabeth began hesitantly. She knew that alms were an important part of being a royal, and she thought it was a good thing what Anne was doing. However, she wouldn't be objected to it if it both of them were doing it solely out of the goodness of their hearts. While that was a motivation, she knew that they were doing it for political purpose, and that was misguided. She wanted Anne and Henry to be generous, but she didn't want them to do it because of a rivalry against Arthur and Katherine. For all of her faults, she knew that Katherine would never use money for the poor to outdo a rival. She would find other means that weren't as sacrilegious.

"I know its fun to compete against the Queen, and I understand why you are doing it. It's not a bad thing to want to be accepted as Queen unanimously when your time comes. However, it is still Katherine's time and while I'm not objected to the idea of being as generous as you can, you shouldn't do it because you simply want to outshine Katherine," Elizabeth advised gently but strictly, leaving no room for argument. Anne had a kind heart, and would make a benevolent queen someday. However, she also had a competitive nature to her, one that could be malicious. She certainly didn't want that being encouraged any more than it was.

Anne digested her words for a moment, knowing that she was right. She should be doing it because she wanted to help out the poor of England, not because she wanted to embarrass and outdo Katherine at any cost. "I'll think better thoughts, and won't do it to be malicious any more, mother," Anne vowed. She didn't want her to disapprove of her actions. "But I'm not going to cut my alms. I want everyone to have as much money as possible, as Henry will allot for me," Anne felt the need to add on. She truly did want to help the poor, and did want the commons to be supportive of her.

"Nor would I expect you to. Just be kind to the Queen, and in your heart, do it for the right reasons," Elizabeth gently commanded.

Anne smiled, and whatever she was going to say in return was lost when one of Lisbeth's attendants entered. "Your grace, the Earl of Ormonde is here." Per Anne's request that she was told to make towards Arthur, her father was elevated as an earl, and despite how cruel he could be at times, she was glad that he received the honor. He not only had a claim to it, settling a problem with the Butlers in Ireland, but Anne knew that Arthur wanted to honor the Boleyns now that Anne was Henry's wife, as he also gave George the title of Viscount Rochford.

Elizabeth of York gave no objection towards it like she threatened she would, being okay with his apology towards his daughter after Lisbeth's birth, but yet she was still weary of him and not entirely fond of him. She knew that behind closed doors, he was probably unkind to his daughters and to his son, especially Anne, but there was nothing she could do about it and despite his crudeness, Anne still loved him because he was her father.

"Papa," Anne greeted him with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Your grace," Boleyn greeted in return, making a shallow bow then kissing her hand after she had released him from the hug. If they were alone, not around the children, the Dowager Queen, or the Princess Mary, he may have skipped the formalities, but after Elizabeth of York's harsh reprimand of his words towards Anne, he always made sure to defer to her with respect. He didn't want to do anything to offend her, knowing that his earldom could be taken away, as well as his fortune, if she had any reason to be unhappy with him. "May we speak outside?" he asked in a genial tone, not allowing his repressed anger or worry seep into his tone.

Anne nodded and walked outside, hoping that it would just a brief conversation so she could go back with her children. As soon as she stepped outside, and her father was sure that they were out of earshot, he harshly gripped her wrist. "Did you talk to the physician yet? Did they confirm your suspicions?" he harshly questioned, not letting up on his unnecessary hold on his daughter.

"Let go of me, or I'll scream so loud the whole palace will hear it," Anne threatened, and smiled inwardly when he released her wrist. "How did you know about my suspicions?" she asked once she had recovered from his attack. She hadn't voiced anyone her concerns about her child, she was too scared that they would be untrue and that she was simply allowing her mind to be fooled by her own desire for another child.

"That is none of your concern, just answer my question," Boleyn repeated. Honestly, he had paid off a member of her household, but he didn't want his daughter to know that. He didn't want her to let up on her blind trust of all of the members of her household, so he could continue to get valuable information. He was sure that there were plenty of spies in there, but that didn't concern him. His daughter wasn't doing anything bad, per say, it's just there were a great many people interested in her private activities.

Anne knew right away that he did have a spy in her household, but she was shocked. Unlike what her father thought, she did know that there were plenty of people who were paid off by third parties to report her every movement to them. She knew that as soon as she married Henry, a lot of privacy would be taken away, Elizabeth had warned her and she couldn't say that she didn't expect it. It still angered her that he found it necessary though. "I have not asked a physician, father, but not to worry, I will when the time is right, when I want to!" Anne answered in a harsh whisper.

"I advise you do it soon daughter, because it is of absolute importance that you produce another child, a son! It would not be wise to deny the Duke of York what he wants. He does not want a female heiress, because that's what the King had. He wants to outdo him. Don't you dare upset him or deny him," Boleyn warned. He knew that Anne was either visiting Henry almost every night, or he was coming to her, which was a sign that he wasn't tiring of her. However, he knew it was only a matter of time before his patience dwindled and he got annoyed with Anne's slow conception.

"I understand father, I will speak to a physician. But don't you insult my daughter, Elizabeth is a perfect child and someday she will become a princess. And lest you forget that you wouldn't be as high as you are today if I had not gotten Henry to fall in love with me. It was me, you know, not you; and only I can give him his true desire. It will always be me, and you have cause to be very grateful to me, and my daughter too." Anne stormed away, not wanting to hear another word out of his mouth.

"Anne! Come back! Don't you dare speak to me like that!"

She didn't even turn around. There was nothing left to say. He was rude and petty, cruel and unloving, not the same man who nurtured her as a child and treated her like she was the most precious girl in the world. She used to love his attention, now she loathed it. She could never get a moment's peace; she was always being quizzed by him. She was sick of feeling like she had cause to be grateful to him, because they both knew he wouldn't be where he was without her. She still loved him, but it was harder to like him as each day passed.

But most importantly, she didn't even want to acknowledge the fact that he may be right; that Henry's love for her may dwindle if she didn't prove to be pregnant soon. And that thought scared her more than her father's anger ever could.

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_A Week Later_

She didn't even know how long she'd been here, on her knees, without the cushion she was so accustomed to. And after a while, she wasn't entirely sure what she was even praying for.

When Katherine was younger, she used to pray everyday at mass for a child, and when Mary arrived, she prayed for her long life and for a son- a Prince of Wales to carry on his father's legacy and make them proud. She would pray for her fertility, for Arthur's virility, and finally, that any child they produced would be a worthy heir for the England that they had created.

There was no use in those prayers anymore.

She was so sure, just this morning, that perhaps she would be making a pilgrimage to pray for a healthy son, like she had done so many times before when she found out she was with child. She thought that she would be praying that this time she and Arthur would have another child, one that they could train to be their heir, the son that they had waited so long for or even just another daughter, one that could bring them just as much delight as their dear Mary did when she was alive.

She was on her knees, but she wasn't sure why. She stared at the crucifix hanging from the elaborate palace chapel, but the words just ceased. Images of the Virgin Mary, which usually caused her to praise pray fervently for a child, were doing nothing to alleviate her suffering.

"_I have not been feeling well in the night, I often break out in cold sweats, and my courses have not come for three months now. Surely that must mean I'm with child, Dr. Linacre, I feel like I've felt the other times. I know I'm not a young woman anymore... but surely?" Katherine nervously questioned as the doctor examined her. She had never wanted something to be so true in her whole life; she didn't realize how much she really wanted another child until she thought it could be a possibility._

"_Forgive me, your majesty, but I do not believe you are with child," Linacre tried to gently let her down, but it was to no avail. There was never an easy way to let down such a gracious Queen, like she had been let down so many times before. _

"_But what is happening to me then? You are sure it's not a mistake?" Katherine harshly inquired, wanting to grab the man by his shirt and just make him spit out what he was trying to so delicately put. "Am I ill? Is the child dead? I do not understand why my courses would just cease!" Katherine commanded, her voice getting shrill and almost hysterical. _

"_Your majesty is going through the change of your life.... God will not grant you and the King anymore children, forgive me," Linacre was finally able to say it, and wished there was an easier way or that somebody else could have delivered the Queen such terrible news. _

"_But I am only thirty four! This cannot be correct," Katherine tried to protest, but the words died in her mouth. No more children? No son for her Camelot? She couldn't even stand to listen to the explanation- that she had not been pregnant for sometime and all the miscarriages may have sped it up. She didn't want to know. _

_She didn't want to hear that it was over and that she had lost. _

She had failed in her primary duty as a Queen; to provide her husband with children. Oh they had tried, many times, but time after time was meant with another disappointment, another child that may have been but just wasn't. Mary was such a blessing, a sweet girl with a calm and gentle disposition but God took her away; most likely punishing her sins by taking away the shining light of her life instead of just killing her and allowing her daughter to live.

Her mother taught her that God always had a purpose, and that all acts were controlled by His will. She had done something to displease God, or God had intended for Henry to rule after Arthur, not any of their children. It was something that made her extremely uncomfortable, and she knew that if her mother was here, she would tell her to accept it. But how could she? Not when she thought that it was her fault. God had tried to save Mary, but she acted in arrogance by not listening to the man outside of her door- the man sent by God to save her daughter.

God spared Arthur from the sweating sickness when they were first married, He allowed her darling husband to live and prosper, and He allowed Katherine to become Queen of England like she knew she was born to be. She was so grateful those days for Arthur's life, but she had done something, or Arthur had done something, to upset God because He never gave Arthur his vitality back. But God did allow for them to have children, many, all of which He called to heaven.

Katherine thought it was a test, and that the time would come for her to have a living child, a son to become the next King of England. When she found out that wasn't possible anymore, there was nothing for her to do but to go to the chapel and devout herself entirely to God. She made a convent with God; she would join a holy order, wear a hair shirt, pray without the comfort of a cushion, and go to mass several times a day, and observe all of the feast days. She hoped it could make up for the fact that she had displeased Him throughout her life.

She was still lost in her absent-minded prayers, prayers that were usually so natural to her, but now she didn't even know what to say, not even to God. She just knew she had to be there.

"Katherine!" she harshly turned around at the sound of her husband's voice, crossed herself, and rose to greet him. She was in a somber garb, but Arthur seemed too excited about something to notice her mood. "Anne is with child! Isn't that wonderful news?" he announced, his giddy voice making Katherine want to slap him, but nevertheless, she put on a smile. It was like the fresh wounds had opened more, and salt had been poured mercilessly into them. If only he knew the truth! Katherine though to herself, but she didn't have the heart to tell him the truth at that very moment.

She gave some half-hearted response, which was good enough for Arthur, who hurried away to announce it to the rest of the court. Once he was gone, Katherine lay completely on the cold chapel ground beneath her, placed her veil over her unwashed hair, and cried fresh salty tears.

Her heart-wrenching sobs were drowned out by the toil of bells throughout the city and prayers for the Duchess' delivery of a healthy son.

**

* * *

**

Hampton Court

_Two Months Later_

"Something is happening," Elizabeth of York stressed from outside of her daughter's chambers, where her screams grew louder and more pained throughout as the minutes passed away. The child was coming, slowly and painfully, and the labor had lasted for nearly a day. All of Hampton Court was in prayer for Mary and her unborn child, and Arthur and Katherine were now joining them from outside the room.

Elizabeth of York could no longer contain her tears at the thought of complications, knowing how dangerous childbirth could be and how hazardous Mary's childbirth record could be. Both of her sons were quick to comfort her, soothing her with empty promises about Mary's strength and God's love of her family. None of the Tudor women had died in pregnancy, and they were sure that Mary would come out of this alive, and so would the child.

"What do you think is happening?" Anne asked Katherine in a hushed whisper. Both women looked extremely worried, even Katherine, who had no cause to love or respect Mary, still wanted the younger woman to be alright, if not for Arthur's sake, and for her unborn child's.

"I have no idea. She hasn't had the easiest time before this. But if Linacre is taking care of her, overseeing things, I doubt that any harm shall befall her," Katherine attempted to be optimistic, but she knew in her heart this wasn't entirely true. Her daughter had died under the watchful eyes of Linacre; he was still a mortal, not a god. "I just pray that God will spare her," Katherine stressed, crossing herself and Anne copied her example.

Brandon was entranced by the small statue of the Virgin Mary outside of Mary's chamber, where all of them were staying, and he couldn't peal his eyes off of it.

He knew that he wasn't the best husband or father towards Mary or their children, and that his treatment of them left something to be desired. For a while now, he had taken mistresses as sure as the seasons changed, and made no attempt to hide them from Mary. He came in late to their shared chambers, and sometimes purposely left the court to carry out his affairs away from the prying eyes. His excuses were faulty at best, and he knew that he was hurting her, but he couldn't help it.

It was never in his nature to be monogamous, and he used to blame Mary for choosing him above all other men, but he knew that wasn't fair now. She was young when they wed, and she wanted nothing more than to escape from the fate her brother had planned out for her. She would have done anything for the hopes of staying in England and being married to man who loved her, and who she loved. Brandon truly did think that he would be a good husband, and for a while, he was.

Things changed though, and after Mary had children, he just didn't find her as enticing anymore, and at Hampton Court there were plenty of willing ladies to accompany the handsome Duke's best friend to bed.

He knew that his philandering and cruel treatment was being punished now; God was taking away his one true love now that he was finally realizing how much she meant to him. He would live the rest of his life regretting his treatment of her, knowing that if he was kinder, she would still be with him; if he wasn't such a fool, God would have let them live a long life together, and he would realize that he didn't need some common slut to share his bed, his wife was all he needed.

He just hoped God would be merciful, and spare her life now that he repented for his mistakes.

Her cries seized and the wails of a newborn baby could be heard, and all six ears from outside of her chamber perked up, and Brandon was at once on his feet.

Linacre finally emerged, his hands still stained with Mary's blood, and with dark circles surrounding his eyes, similar to those of the six nervous family members outside of Mary's rooms. "The Princess has given birth to a healthy daughter, Master Brandon," Linacre announced, speaking to Brandon directly, knowing that he would be the most anxious for the news.

"Praise be to God," all six of them said in unison.

"I want to see my wife," Brandon demanded. He wanted to see if she was alright, he had to see that God would spare her, and he made a convent that he would be a better person if He would just spare her life! He just had to, he didn't know how he'd love again if he knew he killed her.

"I'm sorry Master Brandon; we did all we could...."

_Alright, so the last scene may seem out of place, but it had to happen eventually and I figured now was as good as time as any. I hope you all liked this chapter, I'm just happy I got it done as quickly as I did. Please don't forget to review and let me know what you think! Until next time... _


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! I would like to apologize for the horribly long wait. I have a lot of explanations for this, and I know this is going to sound like whining and those of you who don't care- feel free to skip ahead to the important stuff ;) Basically, my life has been insane. I'm editor of the school newspaper and my advisor is not the easiest person to deal with, so most of my time has been occupied with that. I've had cheer practice every day and the day I have off has been spent doing homework for the extremely difficult classes I signed up for. I try and have a social life as well; and my homecoming was a few weeks ago, so I couldn't find time to update then. I'm a cheerleader and my football team just made the playoffs (hopefully their hopes and dreams will be crushed and my life can continue but until then…) To top all this off, my hard drive on my computer busted so there's been a ton of drama with that. And my family from Illinois was here for a while. Basically, my life has been insane. Forgive me for the long wait, and forgive me if this chapter doesn't meet quality standards and that it's shorter than usual. I've wanted to update, but as you can probably tell, it's been difficult to do so. You don't have to feel sorry for me or even forgive me for the long wait; I just thought it merited an explanation.

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;] **Arthur will not be making an appearance this chapter- but Katherine will. If that irks you, my apologies and feel free to wait for the next update/skip to the next chapter :) **

Without further ado, please enjoy and review! :D

* * *

**Hampton Court **

_June 13, 1527_

"It was well done Charles. People were upset that she had passed so tragically," Henry attempted to comfort his sullen friend, but it was to no avail. Charles appeared unmoved by Henry and Anne's presence, and did even acknowledge their hasty arrival directly after the funeral. It had been nearly three days since Mary had passed, and Charles had not moved from his private chambers, the ones that he and Mary once shared. Charles was known for being lively and energetic, always open to the idea of a vigorous hunt or joust. But understandably, he was very upset over the death of his wife.

"But there was no blame passed on your head. Everyone knew it was of natural causes," Anne quickly added. She didn't want Charles to misunderstand Henry's kind words; or the most diplomatic way her husband could phrase things. While she felt bad for Charles, knowing that he truly did love Mary for all of his ill-treatment, she also thought that he should have attended his wife's funeral, to pay his final respects, instead of sulking like a child. It was the least he could do, in Anne's mind, for all of the trouble he put her friend and sister-in-law through while she was living.

Even if most people didn't blame Brandon, Anne secretly did.

She couldn't help but replay the day that Mary and her disturbed alms where she ranted and raved about Brandon's philandering behavior. Anne knew that despite all of her anger, the major emotion Mary felt towards her husband was sadness and betrayal. Brandon never came to visit Edward in the nursery with Mary, even though Anne had witnessed her invite him many times. Even though she put on her best smile towards him, never once wavering, Anne saw the hidden trace of hurt spelled out on her face when he gave her a paltry excuse that neither of them believed. Anne knew that the only thing Brandon thought about was women, and that it killed Mary every time she looked at her husband, knowing that it wasn't her that he was thinking about anymore.

Anne was of the opinion that when Mary laid down to give birth to her daughter, that in her heart she had already given up. That her sadness consumed her until she no longer had a purpose to live, and that in her mind she was already dead. She had lost the man that she truly loved, the only man that she could ever imagine loving. If only she had lived to see her precious daughter born! Little Frances Brandon- a neutral name that Brandon selected as not to conjure up memories- Anne was sure that the little girl would grow up to become the spitting image of her mother. Her christening, a small and private affair, was planned for the next day. Anne and Henry had agreed to stand as godparents, to simplify things.

Brandon had not even seen his daughter yet.

Anne knew that Brandon was most likely unaware that one of Mary's final desires, one of the things that kept her going every day, was the hope for a daughter. A daughter she could spoil and play with- as much as she loved her son Edward, Anne knew that Mary loved the idea of having her own personal princess. It broke Anne's heart that Mary's life ended too quickly, and that she didn't even have the opportunity to know that she had birthed a healthy, beautiful daughter; and that she would never get the chance to hold or have any part in raising her little girl, the girl she so desperately wanted in her final days.

After Brandon had found out that Mary had died in childbirth, he did not request to see his daughter. The rest of the family, while just as heartbroken as Brandon, still wanted to see the newest addition, even if their beloved sister and daughter had just died. But Brandon had claimed that it would be too painful, and the next day, when Elizabeth of York went to him so they could plan the funeral, he still refused to see his daughter, but he did name her. Elizabeth said nothing, knowing that it was difficult to lose a spouse, but she had later told Anne that she was disgusted in his behavior. As upset as Elizabeth was over the death of Mary, even she had the level head to realize that Brandon's actions were petty, cruel, and selfish.

Anne knew that Mary would have been so distressed to see that her husband was doing nothing in terms of their daughter. That he was ignoring her because she reminded him of Mary. Anne found it to be intolerable, and she intended to do right by the little girl. She considered Mary to be a great friend, even after their rocky beginning, and she wanted to make sure that Frances was brought up in peace and comfort, as a true Tudor child should be. Nobody else had offered, not even Elizabeth (but Anne forgave her, knowing that it was because she greieved). Katherine was far too busy with the affairs of the kingdom to even consider the needs of little Frances. So Anne had taken the task on herself, and never realized how large of an undertaking it was going to be.

Frances, being a highborn infant, required a company of at least six while she was an infant. Usually, she spent the first six weeks or so of her life in her mother's birthing chambers before she was churched, but given the circumstances, Frances had to be moved right away. Anne had quickly hired the necessary persons without any trouble, and figured the matter was resolved, while pledging to play a part in the girl's upbringing personally.

However, it had not stopped at just that, and Anne soon found herself overwhelmed.

"Right, everyone knows that Mary died giving birth to Frances," Henry added once the silence became uncomfortable, and Anne was quickly drawn out of her thoughts, with a renewed sense of anger.

Brandon NEEDED to see his daughter. Even if he didn't wish to do much with her, not even aid or assist Anne with his own daughter's care, he needed to see what she looked like, who his own daughter was. Anne thought that babies required just as much love as grown adults, if not more so. She thought that Frances deserved to see her father and to know that he loved her, even if he was grieving over the death of Mary. His daughter was just as important as his feelings- and in Anne's opinion; he should discredit them completely and spend as much time as possible with Frances.

"Will you not accompany me to the nursery this afternoon? I think Frances should meet her papa," Anne phrased her request as politely as she could, but the undertone of tension was clear to both men. Anne couldn't stand the idea of the arrogance! What right did he have to ignore his child? After all he had put Mary through; Anne thought he should be working twice as hard to make things right with their daughter.

After a long silence, Brandon finally answered Anne's request, his tone as sullen and moody as his expression. "I can't do it, I'm sorry. If you need money or anything…" he was cut off.

"No, Charles, I don't need money. This isn't about the technicalities! Henry and I have plenty of funds to support Frances, trust me. This is about you caring for your daughter! The daughter that you have neglected, just like you ill-treated your wife until she died. You destroyed her, the least you can do now is make sure that her long-awaited daughter is loved and respected by her father," Anne finally snapped, ignoring Henry's coos of restraint. She was known for having a temper, but she hardly displayed it in front of her close friends, usually feeling at ease with them. But she couldn't stand Brandon, not after what he had done to the women in his life.

"Anne..." Henry grabbed her arm and spoke in tense, measured tones, a clear warning to his wife that she had overstepped her limits, as a woman and as his Duchess. Henry thought that she needed to behave with more dignity, especially towards his grieving friend. He was sure that Charles would see and meet with his daughter when he was ready, once he was able to look at the girl without feeling a renewed sense of sadness. Nobody else, not even his wife, had the right to push him into seeing her before he was ready. He had that right, as Frances' father.

"No!" Anne protested, standing up and harshly pulling her arm out of her husband's light grasp. "I cannot tolerate this anymore. Frances is your daughter Charles; and even if you ignored Mary in her final days, this little girl cannot afford to be another one of your causalities. I know you are upset, but you are a man, and need to act like one. Stop sulking, and take care of your daughter," Anne commanded, adopting her most forceful tone. She would not allow Brandon to leave his daughter out in the dust. Anne honestly did not mind taking care of Frances and overseeing Edward's business now that his mother was gone, but she felt that both children needed their father in their lives.

"She doesn't mean it Charles, she's just grieving. Right Anne?" Henry questioned, not happy with his wife's behavior. He wanted to believe it was just grief, but he couldn't. Anne spoke with convincing sincerity, and it was clearly out of anger, not sadness or undeserved blame. The look in her eyes was all Henry needed to see that she completely blamed Charles, and he couldn't allow it to happen. "You may leave me now, wife, I believe you have overstepped your bounds," he added, giving her a cold stare.

The tone of Henry's voice left no room for argument, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't stop, and now her anger was directed towards her husband. "No, and frankly, it makes me uncomfortable that you are not offended by this! What if I was to die giving birth to this child? Would you watch after him or her? Would you make sure our son or daughter was looked after, taken care of, or just leave it to another woman while you selfishly grieved?" Anne rhetorically questioned, looking from one man to the other. "That is what you are doing Charles. You are leaving your daughter in the care of another person, and since she was born you have taken no interest in her. Is that how you want it to be? You should be careful, if you continue on this path, she may hate you in the future," Anne ominously warned.

"That's quite enough from you! I told you to leave," Henry commanded, more forcefully this time. He couldn't say he was surprised with Anne's temperament, and he knew that she had a point, although she was poking her nose in a place she didn't belong, and had no right to question the actions of any man. Besides, he could tell that she was getting hostile, something that would not be good for their son growing in her belly. He didn't want his son's health to be compromised because his wife erupted into a random fit about something that didn't matter. Frances Brandon would eventually meet her father.

"Henry… I can't. Not until Charles accompanies me to the nursery, to see his daughter, the daughter who is motherless because he is addicted to the company of women!" Anne exclaimed, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders because she had finally told Charles that it was his fault, in her opinion.

"How dare you!" Charles roared, sitting up from his chair in lightening speed, and was now approaching Anne. "I know that what I did was inexcusable, and I know that Mary was unhappy while she was pregnant with Frances…" he was cut off again, by another one of Anne's angry comments.

"Before then! She has been unhappy for years Charles. Once you returned to Hampton from your exile you have hardly spent any time with her! How do you think she felt? You may feel guilty but that is not going to bring Mary back from the dead and it's certainly not going to help your daughter. I truly hope you do the right thing. Your daughter needs you," Anne finished, turning her back angrily to her husband and his friend, not able to stand there any longer and listen to excuse after excuse as to why Brandon could take responsibility for his own child and the mess that he created, the wife that he destroyed.

She stormed away, through the corridors and to the nursery, where she was greeted by her daughter and her stepson. "My darlings!" she exclaimed, sweeping Lisbeth into her arms and giving Hal a kiss. Having a conversation with Brandon and his neglect of his children made her long for hers even more. "I love you both so much, and don't you dare forget it," Anne stressed. Even though her children were too young to understand, Mary's untimely death had a profound impact on Anne. What if she had died without making sure her children knew that their mother loved them?

Placing a hand on her stomach, the possibility seemed all too real. Mary had died under the watchful eyes of a royal physician, and there was no guarantee that Anne would make it through childbirth alive. She had prayed everyday for the safe delivery of a son, but in her mind, if she was able to keep her life and her child was healthy, then it would be a success. Lisbeth was only two, she certainly needed her mother during her formative years; and Hal had already lost one mother. Anne did not like the idea of leaving them when they were so young, when she had come to see them every day and knew how attached they were to her. So she was very careful about her welfare, and was disappointed that she had gotten so upset at Brandon. Nevertheless, she thought her cause was a worthy one.

Edward Brandon was still very upset about the death of his mother, and was only able to greet Anne with a tearful hug. "Thanks for coming, Auntie Anne. Was my mama's funeral nice?" Edward questioned. His papa did not want him to attend, and Edward had to stay in the nursery instead of paying his last respects to his mama. He already missed her so much and didn't know how he was going to be happy again without her around. His Auntie Anne was a nice lady who would take good care of him, but she could never replace his mother. Nobody could.

"Wonderful. She looked beautiful. How is your little sister?" Anne hastened to change the subject. Dwelling on the subject of Mary for too long would be an uncomfortable situation for her, and she didn't want Edward to be in a funk for too long. She didn't think it was good for a young child to be so depressed. She remembered her own mother passing, and how upset she was, but her sister Mary took it far harder than she did, and she swore that Mary was never the same afterwards. She would hate to see Edward that way, although in his defense, he certainly had many more weeks of proper mourning. Nevertheless, she wanted to do anything to make sure his sprits stayed as high as possible.

As Anne had hoped would happen, Edward's face lit up and he grabbed Anne's hand and lead her into Frances' room. Since Frances was still a baby and therefore prone to cry often, Anne had given her a room to herself displaced from the rest of the nursery so she wouldn't disturb any of the other children. Frances' care, along with the other three children in the nursery, was a lot for a woman of her age to undertake, and given that Elizabeth of York was too sad, and Katherine too busy, she was basically on her own.

Henry was of course, not of any help. He allowed Anne free reign on the nursery, and gave her the proper funds, but in terms of helping her with the details or specifics, he protested, claiming that it was a woman's work and that he had other more important things to tend to. As angry as it made Anne, she didn't know what she was supposed to do about it. Certainly King Arthur had hired someone else to oversee his daughter's nursery- or Katherine did it personally. But since Princess Mary was their only living child while she was alive, Katherine did not have to worry about much, let alone the care of four children varying in age.

And now Brandon refused to see his daughter. It was enough to make Anne want to go into confinement early! She felt her child kick at this thought, as if protesting, giving her the strength to carry on. She owed it to the children. They needed her and she was not going to let them down. And she wouldn't let Mary down- she would make sure that her children were raised in peace and according to their noble status, and she would give them all the love and attention that she could, if their father would not give them any. Still, she wished that he would play a larger part in their upbringing. She didn't want them to grow up as bitter and angry children simply because their father felt so much guilt that he couldn't look at the children of his deceased wife.

But once her child arrived, she knew that she would have her hands full, and the thought made her want to beg for the help of the two other women in her family.

As Edward was clamoring on about his sister and her progress, despite the fact that she was no more than a few days old, he was interrupted by the sound of the door to the nursery opening, revealing Charles Brandon, looking rightly abashed.

"Papa!" Edward squealed in delight, running up to hug his wayward father. He rarely saw him, even when his mama was alive, and he thought it was strange that his papa had yet to visit with his baby sister. Frances was such a cute and pretty baby, who reminded Edward of his mama, and he was sure that his papa would find some sort of happiness from his sissy's company.

"Edward!" Brandon scoped his son into a genuine hug. "I'm sorry I haven't come sooner," he whispered softly into his son's ear, and for the first time, he truly felt the guilt lift a bit off of his shoulder. He knew that Anne was right, that seeing his children was important, and that he needed to continue to see them as often as he could. Ignoring them would not make him forget Mary, and it would make him feel worse in the long run, and honestly, he couldn't survive if he felt more remorse, because he knew it would just consume him. Like Mary's sadness consumed her before her death.

At first he protested the notion that he had to see his daughter. She was a mere three days old, and she certainly wouldn't remember the sad hours in her first days of life, and that her birth had caused the death of her mother. Not directly, at least. Brandon certainly did not think it was worth it to visit with the daughter who would only cause him fresh pain since she would only remind him of Mary, and not do anything to cure the pain his heart and soul felt since his wife had died. He just wanted to be alone; he didn't want to see the products of his marriage, and of his love towards his wife that he had so often neglected to show her.

But if he didn't see Frances now, when was he going to be able to? It weighed on his thoughts, and he honestly didn't have an answer to his own question. When would he be healed enough to bear the thought of seeing his daughter? He had to do it. Anne's words stung, and all he wanted to do was thrash her at the time, but now, even if she was rude and callous, she had a point. Frances didn't deserve to be punished for his mistakes, and for the fact that her mother died giving birth to her. She needed to be loved, just like every other child.

"Have you finally come to see your daughter?" Anne asked sharply, gingerly picking Frances out of her cradle and soothing her cries. Anne didn't realize it before, but she was aware that she had hot tears flowing from her eyes; tears of anger, tears for her friend's child, tears of from her own fear. Henry's reaction, or lack of one, to Charles' behavior left her unsettled. Again, she felt her hand subconsciously move to the swell of her stomach.

"Yes, your grace," Charles replied, feeling defeated. He took her into his arms and rocked her, and to his amazement, Frances' cries ceased. "She stopped!" he gushed. He had spent more time with Edward when he and Mary lived at Yorkshire before they moved to Hampton, when he was still just a baby, and he never responded to him the same way Frances did. Mary was always the one who able to calm Edward down, and now that Charles thought about it, Mary was able to calm him down when he was feeling upset.

"_Charles, just remember, whatever happens, that I love you, and that I always will." _

How could he have been so heartless? Mary LOVED him-those women that he had forsaken Mary for harbored no feelings for him except lust, and perhaps ambition. Mary gave up her whole entire way of life to be with him, and he had done nothing to show his appreciation. He did love her, regardless of his actions, but he knew that in his heart, that Mary didn't know it at her final moments. That she probably expected Charles to ignore their daughter, the daughter she had always wanted. He wondered if Mary knew that she had given birth to the daughter she had waited so long for, or if the child was going to die like she would.

"I'm sorry so sorry Mary, please forgive me," Charles whispered into his daughter, hoping that nobody could hear it. He knew that he was crying now, but when he turned to Anne, tears were streaming down her face.

"I think she knows Charles," Anne replied, giving Charles a kiss on the check. "Goodbye Frances," Anne said, touching the little girl's soft downy head and going back to the main quarters of the nursery, leaving the Brandon family a measure of privacy.

She had reunited a father with a daughter, and put at peace a husband and a wife. She couldn't stop the smile spreading across her face.

* * *

_Three Weeks Later_

"Katherine, I'm so happy you were able to find time to come here," Elizabeth greeted her eldest daughter-in-law warmly as she walked into her chambers.

"I came as soon as I heard there was a problem that I could help with. What's wrong?" Katherine asked, accepting the goblet of wine given to her by one of Elizabeth's ladies.

Katherine had not visited Hampton since the death of her sister-in-law, not wanting to interfere with the mourning process that was happening there. She was not nearly as close to Mary as the residents at Hampton Court were, and their relationship was a very strained one. She had never fully forgiven Mary for her intransigence in thwarting her powerful nephew in order to marry the commoner Charles Brandon. Later, when Arthur had forgiven his sister for her foolish actions, she was rude and aloof towards Katherine, and Katherine was sure had played a part in poisoning Anne's mind against her. The only fond memories Katherine harbored towards Mary were those when Mary was younger, when Katherine had first come to England. Mary was a sweet girl and often provided a respite for Katherine when she was constantly monitored by Margaret Beaufort and King Henry.

Arthur was also saddened by his sister's death, despite the fact that their age gap was a wide one, yet Katherine understood. When she had lost her siblings, no matter how close they were to each other, she felt like there was a void in her heart. She knew that Arthur loved his family and therefore, she knew her place was by his side for the month that he mourned for, knowing that the burdens of kingship would be a lot for him while he was filled with sorrow because of the loss of his sister. Wherever Arthur was, she knew she needed to be. So she didn't have time to go to Hampton, to visit with Anne or with Elizabeth.

"It's nothing serious, necessarily, it's just that Anne is overwhelmed and you are the only person who can help her," Elizabeth explained. She had noticed that Anne had been very tense lately, and Elizabeth didn't think it was a good thing, due to her pregnancy. She knew it was because due to Mary's death, there was a lot of business to attend with her children, business that Elizabeth was too sad to help with. She knew that her sorrow would consume her, not allowing her to be much help to Anne.

Elizabeth had considered assisting Anne once her mourning period was over and she was able to remerge into court life without feeling an overwhelming sense of sadness and regret towards Mary's death; once she had been able to accept that Mary was truly gone and there was nothing she could do to bring her back. But after more consideration, she realized that the best person to help Anne was Katherine, and that it would be a wonderful opportunity for them to bury the hatchet and start over anew.

Even though Elizabeth loved her daughter dearly, and knew that her intentions were primarily good, she was a jealous and spiteful girl at times, and had never fully liked Katherine after what happened with Brandon and the Emperor. While she was glad that Mary had finally accepted Anne and settled into Hampton Court comfortably, she knew that Mary had played a part in making Anne dislike Katherine, making the seeds of distrust Henry had planted bloom.

She knew that if Anne had not been told such fallacious stories about Katherine, based off the experiences of her two youngest children, that she would have been able to find common ground with Katherine and that the she would have been able to swallow her pride and allow Katherine to aid her in the daunting task of preparing to become Queen. Although Elizabeth had tried to teach her as much as she knew, she could not aid in becoming the type of Queen that Katherine was, the type of Queen that Anne was destined to become. Elizabeth had exercised no influence when she was the Queen, due to the fact that her husband and her mother-in-law had not allowed her to. Henry would certainly not chain Anne to such demands under her orders, just like Arthur had done with Katherine. Anne would hold a much larger role than Elizabeth ever did, and there was no way she could prepare her for that.

They certainly had some hurdles to overcome, including the gap in status. Anne was assured to be Queen someday, but for the time being, she was just the Duchess of York. And while Katherine was Queen now, when Anne took her place, she would be demoted to Dowager. The two ladies would never see themselves on equal footing; something that Elizabeth knew was part of the problem with the prideful women.

Now that Mary was dead, and Anne needed help, she knew it would be just the right time for Katherine to exercise some influence over her heiress. Although Henry was technically the heir to the English throne and so the only person who could help him was Arthur; as the only person who could help Anne was Katherine. Anne was overwhelmed with her duties as the Duchess of York, so Katherine could give her advice and aid her in transition.

"Me? Why me?" Katherine questioned, wearing a face of disbelief. Anne was not entirely fond of her, although they were on neutral terms now that Katherine was reconciled to the idea of Henry and Anne being married, taking over her throne, and having male heirs (which Katherine was confident Anne would bear). However, nobody could call them friends. Too much had happened between the two of them for them to become friends, in Katherine's opinion, and she didn't think there was enough time to salvage their relationship into something positive.

"You are the Queen of England- in every sense of the word. You weren't controlled by your husband, you aided him. I believe that Anne will someday, hopefully someday far away, be the type of Queen that you are; or at least she will want to be. But she needs your help. I certainly cannot help her, you know as well as I do that I'm not experienced in that," Elizabeth explained. She hoped that there was time for them to come together and help each other, and she knew that despite all of Anne's fake confidence that she knew how to handle the burden, that she needed help.

"I don't know, she isn't the fondest of me. And it seems like I would simply spring upon her, especially when there is nothing as of right now that I can truly help her with. Perhaps when her son is born I can help with his education…" she was cut off.

"Why wait until her son is born? Why not now? She needs help Katherine; she is currently overseeing Mary's children and her own, including Hal. Someday, Anne and Henry's oldest son is going to become the King of England, but not before Anne becomes Queen. Don't you want to help her, teach her everything you know so that one day you can be sure that when Henry and Anne take over that they finish the job that you and Arthur started?" Elizabeth questioned, not expecting an answer. She knew that once Katherine was aware that there was a great opportunity for her to raise an heiress and to throw all of her hopes that she reserved for her own daughter onto Anne that she would jump at the chance.

"What do you want me to do? I only looked after one child, and that certainly didn't do much to save her," Katherine sharply retorted, the memory of Mary causing her heart to beat faster and the tear ducts in her eyes to sting. Realizing that she had snapped at Elizabeth, she spoke her next words much softer, knowing that Elizabeth had just lost her daughter as well. "It's just that I don't believe she will listen to me. Henry has poisoned her mind against me." _And your daughter did too_, Katherine wanted to add, but she thought the memory was too fresh. She certainly wouldn't have wanted anybody to bad mouth her daughter just a month after her death.

"Where did Catalina de Aragon go? I remembered that you used to rise up to any challenge and face it head on. I'm not saying that Anne is going to swallow her pride right away at the chance for some help with her burden, but if you phrase it in the right way, you may find yourself mentoring Anne in a way you never thought possible. She's a fiercely intelligent girl, Katherine; she just needs some help harnessing it. I can think of no better person," Elizabeth coaxed. She just had to bring these two women together.

Katherine nodded, knowing it was the right thing to do. She had been so worried about Henry's behavior, but knew that there was little she could do for him now. Henry was out of her control, he would never listen to her. But she had to at least try to aid Anne, to shape her at least a little bit into a good, strong monarch. She knew that she had the raw materials, she was an independent thinker and had a great hold over her husband, and was fertile. If Anne could have a son, she could succeed where Katherine had failed. She had to get over her own pain and make sure that her country, the country that she had come to love and honor, and had molded into her own, was passed onto good hands.

"Thank you, I will go to her now. The worst thing I could do was never try and never know what could have been," Katherine admitted, standing up and kissing Elizabeth's check. "I appreciate this, you are so wise, and King Henry missed the opportunity to have a great advisor, much wiser than his monster of a mother," Katherine complimented, and smiled at the sound of Elizabeth's laughter, knowing that after the death of a child, it's difficult to laugh and smiles are rare. "If there's ever anything you need, anything I can help you with… just know that I've been where you are. It gets easier," Katherine offered, giving her a hug. "You are the best woman I know."

"Oh, Katherine. I always knew you'd be a great Queen," Elizabeth responded, feeling the most at peace with her daughter-in-law as she had in a long time.

She knew that she had done the right thing.

* * *

Katherine hadn't thought to warn Anne before visiting her. She didn't want Anne to put on a fake smile and greet her as if there was no problem. She had to catch her in a vulnerable state, knowing that if Elizabeth came to her with a problem, that it was a serious one.

She could imagine that Anne was feeling extremely overwhelmed by the fact that she had to take care of a whole nursery of children, and was expecting one of her own, which could cause a woman to have numerous mood swings and become extremely worried over every little thing. Under normal circumstances, she knew that Anne would have only been required to watch after her little Lisbeth, but Anne's marriage and lifestyle was never a normal one. Anne was overseeing Mary's children, including a young baby, and her husband's bastard. Katherine could only imagine the pressure she felt- pressure that she was unaccustomed to.

Katherine was well aware that no matter how much training that Anne may have received before she married Henry, which she knew wasn't much, did not prepare her for the actual role. Anne had learned how to maintain a small household, most likely, from Elizabeth of York, but not on the scale which she was overseeing now. While from the looks of things, Anne had done an admirable job with her household at Hampton Court, and even with the nursery, but she knew it couldn't have been easy.

Katherine had never overseen her own household when she was a child, even though her tutors and governess had told her what to expect and taught her the basics, her first household that she was completely in-control of at Ludlow Castle was difficult, and when she first had Mary, she had been Queen for five years and had been married to Arthur for seven, so she was well-seasoned about the protocol and what needed to be done. She knew that Anne hadn't had the luxury of time.

"Oh, your majesty, I wasn't expecting you," Anne rose from her seated position to greet the Queen, shocked to see her standing in her room. The child in her womb moved uncomfortably when she sat up, and her face betrayed her discomfort. "Mary, fetch the Queen and I goblets of wine," Anne commanded to her sister as she motioned for the Queen to sit once the pleasantries were exchanged.

"I'll get right to it. Anne," she began, addressing her by her Christian name, hoping that it would allow them to be more comfortable around each other. "I know you have been under a great deal of stress and pressure since Mary's death, and I have come here to help," Katherine hesitantly explained, hoping that she had phrased it delicately enough.

"I'm fine," Anne stubbornly insisted, although her voice wavered. "It's just the preparations for the birth of my child, along with the care of the four others, has been occupying my time recently, and as a result, I fear that I haven't been spending enough time with my daughter, son, or husband. It's nothing for you to be concerned about, your majesty," Anne explained, not wanting the Queen to get involved. She just couldn't trust her, not after everything Henry had told her, and she knew that Henry wouldn't be pleased with the idea of accepting the Queen's charity.

"Oh Anne, you remind me so much of myself. You refuse help because you want to be strong, you want to be independent. But just remember that you were thrust into this role, just because the man who you wished to marry was the Duke of York. You weren't raised for this," Katherine explained, reaching out to touch Anne's hand, and although there was no response, the fact that she did not recoil was promising. "I was raised for it, Elizabeth was raised for it, and both of us were relativity unprepared for the actual thing."

"I don't need your help. You have your own marriage and kingdom to look after," Anne tensely turned her down, standing up to let her out. "And it's probably better if you don't meddle, for everyone involved. I think you recall how it worked out last time," Anne asserted, opening the door to her chamber. She appreciated the effort, but the last thing she needed was to cause a rift, and she wasn't a poor beggar.

"I'm not trying to change your life, Anne; I'm only trying to help. Let me help with the nursery and the preparations for your child. I'm not going to take it over, and if you prefer, Henry doesn't even have to know about it. I just think your life doesn't have to be this hard, not when you still have so much to learn and so much time to learn it," Katherine kindly offered, standing steadfastly in the door.

Anne pondered her offer for a moment. What harm was there in it? Elizabeth was still mourning for the loss of Mary, and Anne didn't want to trouble her. Katherine was available, Katherine was offering, Katherine wanted to make things right. "Alright," she replied. "I would appreciate the help, there isn't much of offered here. Come and meet the children and visit the nursery, I think you'll like what I've done with it…"

_Wow, that chapter was so not supposed to be that long! I would like to apologize yet again for how long this took, and I hope that you all liked this chapter, and that everyone is happy that Katherine and Anne are going to start getting on much better. Next chapter will include a time jump and a new character (I think you can all guess ;)) Until next time, please review, and thanks for reading! _


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

**likAuthor's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur guys! Thanks so much for sticking with this story for this long :) As always, I would like to apologize for how long this has taken and thank everyone for being so patient. I've gotten so much positive feedback over the past couple of chapters and the success of this story makes me so pleased. Thanks for always reviewing/reading/favoriting/alerting. Anyway… some general notes, shorter chapter this time and some people might consider it filler, but hopefully some plot action does happen. I was debating on having a huge time jump, but there's just a minor one. And I just think its funny how everyone guessed Jane Seymour for the new character- she's not in this chapter, but she is coming up eventually.

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;]

Without further ado- Chapter Thirty Five of King Arthur II! Please don't forget to review :)

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_December 5, 1527_

"Anne gave birth to a son this morning. Henry has named him Edward," Arthur told Katherine in the privacy of her rooms, expecting a fierce reaction. If she was going to cry, scream, or express any kind of emotion other than joy, Arthur knew it had to be in private. They had to put on a façade in front of the rest of the court, to make sure that everyone was aware that they accepted Henry and Anne's son as the fourth generation of Tudor monarchs.

As they were trained to do, they had to hide their emotions for the sake of their country.

When Arthur heard the news, he knew he was supposed to happy. Henry and Anne deserved to be happy; he did not begrudge them on bit for having such a beautiful and expanding family. He had never been a jealous man either, so he didn't envy Henry or Anne for more than an instant for the way God smiled down on them. Arthur knew he had been blessed by God in a different way. He was a great King, had a beautiful wife, and knew that he was the most amiable of the monarchs in Christendom. Arthur had been blessed in ways that his oftentimes vain and flamboyant brother would never understand.

More so than Henry, he was happy for Anne. He knew that Henry loved his wife dearly; but he expected a son out of her, and was secretly disappointed about Lisbeth's sex, despite his outward show of affection towards her. Arthur could not ignore the fact that Henry wanted so badly to outdo him in every way so he could show the people of England that he was able to take over after his brother. When they were children, it bothered him. But years of kingship, hardship, and his life in general changed his outlook on his brother's attitude. Henry's futile sibling rivalry was trivial at best and mattered more to Henry than it did to Arthur.

He knew how his brother could be, and he wouldn't have wanted Anne to suffer for giving birth to a stillborn or another girl.

"How wonderful," Katherine expressed, and although the words were happy, her tone was flat and lifeless. "Anne is quite recovered then?" It was also no secret to Arthur that Katherine had grown fond of Anne over the past few months, and made frequent trips to Hampton Court to visit with her. It was natural that she would be concerned for her health, and not care so much about Henry's joy over the birth of a healthy male heir. In a way, Arthur could find himself mirroring his wife's emotions. Anne had grown on all of them.

"She is just as thrilled as Henry, according to the letter," Arthur replied, just as flat as Katherine. "We have to see them, you know," he added after a long pause. In a way, hearing about Lisbeth's birth two years before was easier for them to swallow, especially for Katherine, knowing that Anne had not outdone her yet, as Arthur was sure that she wouldn't have been able to handle that at the time. The most difficult part of that whole ordeal was seeing Lisbeth for the first time, and how both of them noted how much more robust and healthy she was compared to their Mary. Their daughter had not even been given a chance to develop properly, and they knew right away that Henry's daughter would outlive their Mary.

Hearing about Edward's healthy birth was more painful, but they knew that once they got up the nerve to visit him, it wouldn't sting as bad as Lisbeth did. Yet, it was just knowing that they had failed where Henry and Anne had succeeded. Katherine remembered her naïve thoughts when she first stepped onto the shore of England; how great of a Queen she was going to be and how many fine princes and princesses there would be in the royal nursery. At the time, in her mind, there was absolutely no room for error and the thought of failure never even crossed her mind. She didn't even think it was possible.

When Linacre told her she was going through the change of her life, she thought that she could die. She had been much more pious after that faithful day, going to mass at least twice a day and wearing a hair shirt underneath most of her clothing. The constant irritation of her skin reminded her that somewhere along the line, she had sinned gravely, and that she owed it to her soul and to God to pay for her sins. Even if some of her failure could be attributed to Arthur's sickness as a child and his loss of virility afterwards, she knew it couldn't all be placed at the blame of that, because they had Mary, and God took her away and would never give her another child.

She didn't even realize that she was crying until she felt Arthur's hands snake around her shoulders. He pulled her gingerly into an embrace. "Katherine, we tried our best. We did all we could," Arthur comforted, yet, he couldn't stop the tears falling from his eyes. "Maybe, someday, we will have another child," he whispered his hope and felt his wife shake even more from her tears.

"No we won't," Katherine retorted to the surprise of Arthur. Usually she was the first one to push the idea of conceiving children, to continue their legacy through their line and not Henry's. Yet there was certain sureness in her voice that could not be refuted, so Arthur let her continue. "Linacre told me in the spring that I was going through the change of my life and that we wouldn't be able to conceive again. I couldn't believe it at first, because I'm only 35, but he assured me it was true. It's all over for us Arthur," Katherine weakly explained, throwing herself into her husband's chest yet again and felt the hot tears pour out of her eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Arthur asked gently, pushing her chin up so she was looking straight at him. "You had to have known that I wasn't going to be angry, didn't you?"

"It had nothing to do with you! I couldn't admit it, not yet, not while Anne was pregnant and you were so happy. At least you acted that way. I couldn't believe it was true, but I had to. That's why I've been seeing Anne so much more; she's the only heir I have left. I just couldn't let you down more than I already have. I was scared you would take a mistress, or another wife," Katherine confided. Again, she knew her fears were unfounded, but she had probably disappointed Arthur so much, and even if she had not, she knew it was his dynastic duty to produce children and she wouldn't have been surprised if he tried to end their union, despite his great love for her. Yet there was a part of her that knew that she was thinking foolishly, since had never even hinted so much in the past and always assured that his love for her was more important than anything.

"Katherine, how could you think that poorly of me, and our love? It overcomes everything. We may have not chosen each other, but if I had to choose all over again, it would have been you, Katherine, and this life," Arthur began, torn between wanting to shake his wife for being so silly (gently of course) or wanting to hit himself for giving her room to doubt him so much. "It's never been about children, or wives, it's been about you and me. You are everything I've ever wanted. Please, don't give up on us just because you think you have failed. Because you haven't. I'm so happy, Katherine, even if there are times when I'm sad I am a happy man."

"You promise?" Katherine asked, feeling suddenly insecure. She didn't know what had happened to her, and she could tell that her doubt really hurt Arthur. She felt regretful that she had not told Arthur sooner, at least for his sake. Now she knew that he believed she thought poorly of him, and that was not the case. She couldn't find it in her heart to tell him, not while Anne was pregnant. For all of his show of pleasure, she knew that this was just as hard on him as it was for her. They both felt the shadow of their failure, and she certainly couldn't rub salt in the open wound.

"Always. I'll never leave you. We tried, and God clearly has other plans for England. Why would I challenge that? It wasn't meant to be, and I'm alright with that. The only regret I feel is the pain it has clearly caused you," Arthur confided.

It was hard on him, but he knew that his marriage was meant to be. He couldn't imagine finding another woman besides Katherine. His dynasty was safe in the hands of his brother, and he was happy with his wife. He knew that although his father and grandmother had originally planned the marriage many years ago for Katherine's immense dowry, the prestige of a Spanish marriage, and because they thought Katherine would be fertile; that God had other plans for their marriage besides his father's concerns. Arthur truly thought that they were meant to find each other.

"Thank you," Katherine replied, settling into his tight embrace and giving him a quick kiss. "Let's go face reality now."

* * *

**Hampton Court**

"Perfect," Anne remarked, staring down at the warm mass of blankets in her arms. "He is absolutely perfect." As if in a response to his mother's praise, baby Edward cooed and wrapped his hand around her finger, a moving gesture of love from a child only hours old. Anne felt her heart melt and realized that despite all of the pressure she had been under to give Henry heirs, her two children were completely worth it.

"Mama I want to see him!" Lisbeth chirped from her mother's bedside. For months now her nurses and governess told her to pray every night for a baby brother to make her parents happy. Lisbeth had grown quite impatient over the last couple of months, unsure why her baby brother hadn't arrived yet and where he was hiding for so long. Her papa told her it was because he was still growing inside her mama's belly, and when she asked how he got there her question was simply met with laughter from both of her parents.

She may have only been two, but she could tell that her baby brother meant a great deal to both of her parents already. She just hoped that her new brother Edward wouldn't be replacing her. Her other brother Hal, who was different than Edward because he had a different mama (even though he was treated like her real brother), told her not to worry. Hal told her that her parents would love her no matter what and that although Edward would be fussed over for a while since he was a new baby, eventually things would return back to normal and her parents would shower equal amounts of love onto all three of them.

Lisbeth certainly hoped so, since she didn't like the idea of having Edward taking her place. Nevertheless, for now, she could share her parent's joy over having a little brother to play with, since Hal was four years older than her and had plenty of lessons to keep him busy.

"He's still a new baby, Lisbeth, and he is a big one too. I'll do something about your view though," Henry explained, picking up his daughter and setting her down next to Anne. She quickly curled up next to her mother, who placed an arm around her. "My perfect family," Henry whispered in awe. He never imagined that he would ever have a wife and children in his youth; he always thought he would be bound to the Church and its boring doctrine. The thought of how generous life had been towards him made him want to weep openly, if not for the presence of his wife and children.

"Where is Hal?" Anne inquired, noting his absence. "He knows he is welcome, right Lisbeth?"

She often worried about her stepson, knowing that despite her best efforts to include him in the family as best as she could, he oftentimes felt left out from the general group. Now that she had her own son, she knew that she had to work extra hard to devote some time to Hal still, but knew it would be difficult nonetheless. It would be a lot of work taking care of the new baby, but Katherine had already offered to help her with anything she needed. She had been extremely helpful with Frances Brandon, and now the little girl was with the household she required and her father paid far more attention to her. But Edward would require much more attendants and Anne hoped that it didn't take too much of her time so she could still devote some of it to Lisbeth and Hal.

"He is on his way mama, he has a gift for Edward and for you," Lisbeth explained, clasping a hand over her mouth once she realized she had ruined her brother's surprise. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that," she remarked shyly, feeling foolish for revealing something that Hal had worked so hard to keep secret. He would be so upset with her and never share any secrets with her again!

Anne winked at her daughter, amused by her slip of the tongue. "Don't worry, I still act surprised," she confided and was pleased to see Lisbeth's face once again morph into a smile.

"You too, papa? You have to act surprised too!" Lisbeth commanded. Even if mama acted surprise, if her papa didn't, the whole thing would be ruined and Hal wouldn't trust her ever again.

"Anything for my little princess," Henry embellished, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "Hal won't have any idea."

"Good," Lisbeth replied, settling comfortably back into her mother's embrace and continued to admire her little brother.

After a few moments of idle for the new family, Anne's sister entered, still wearing the pleased smirk on her face from when she found out her sister had given birth to a son, knowing that a great deal of Anne's troubles would be solved, especially with their overzealous father. "The King and Queen have arrived, your graces," Mary informed her sister and brother-in-law, and noted the pompous smirk that engulfed Henry's face. She just hoped that he wouldn't upset the King and Queen.

"What do I do?" Lisbeth asked, rising from the bed in panic after she noticed her father rising and her mother tidying her clothing and brushing nonexistent particles from her gown.

"Remember to curtsy when your aunt and uncle come in here and don't look up until they make the motion to have you rise. And greet them as 'your majesties,'" Henry explained to his daughter, glad that he didn't have to worry about her embarrassing him. He remembered the way that his late niece acted, how regal she was for such a young age and how much that impressed him. He knew that Lisbeth acted just as well for her age and that someday, she would make a fine princess, one that he could be proud of and one who would one day make a great Queen of another country once he found a suitable marriage for her.

"Your majesties," all three of them said in unison once Arthur and Katherine entered the room.

Arthur flicked his hand up, motioning that they could rise. "Lisbeth!" he greeted, sweeping his niece into a hug. "How are you today?" he asked, charmed by the little girl. "You look very beautiful, did your mother design that gown for you?" he asked.

"Yes, and thank you your majesty," she replied, remembering the advice her father gave her, even though to her he was still Uncle Arthur. She still was unsure when she could call him that and when she was supposed to call him by his real title. Her governess explained to her that the King and Queen deserved complete respect from her, even if they were her aunt and uncle. The King was always very kind to her though, and insisted that she be lax around him. It oftentimes confused Lisbeth; she didn't know what she was supposed to call him anymore.

"It's Uncle Arthur, remember?" he asserted with mock-seriousness. He wanted his niece and nephew to feel at ease around him, after all, they were to be the future generation of Tudor monarchs. He wanted them to be close to each other, he didn't want to be some distant, imposing uncle-King with whom they could not relate. It would do him no good, and certainly would not get him anywhere with at least somewhat influencing Henry's children and Henry himself.

Lisbeth nodded and gave her uncle a kiss on the cheek. "Do you want to see baby Edward?" she asked sweetly, beaming up at him.

Arthur nodded and placed Lisbeth down, allowing her to grab his hand and lead him to Anne's bedside. "Congratulations, he is truly a beautiful child, a true blessing. You have both done great for this family," Arthur explained, looking down at the child in awe and wonder. He had never believed it was even possible for a woman to give birth to a healthy son, because after all of Katherine's miscarriages and stillbirths, it seemed like some kind of distant dream. But baby Edward was a true, living, breathing Tudor son; just not his son. "May I hold him?" he asked, and felt himself choke on his own tears.

"Of course," Anne replied. She didn't like giving up her newborn son so quickly and abruptly, but seeing the mixture of hurt and love in Arthur's eyes at that very moment, she knew that he had to see his nephew. She was glad that although Katherine couldn't give Arthur a son, she was able to continue the next line. She had given England an heir where others had failed.

Thinking of Katherine's failure made her have a flash of guilt and pity towards the other woman, who had been a friend and mentor to her over the past months, after the death of her sister-in-law. She turned her head to face Katherine's eyes looking over her son, and like Arthur, her face was an awkward mixture of pain and joy. Katherine, as if sensing Anne's eyes on her, turned to meet the younger woman's stare and walked over to her, holding some kind of small garment.

"I didn't know what to get you, but I knew I had to get you something. Then I remembered Lisbeth was christened in your own gown; this is the official royal one. Your husband and mine were both christened in it. I thought that perhaps you would like to have it, for your own son's. He is going to be the future Prince of Wales, after all," Katherine explained, handing the dainty garment into Anne's hands. It was outdated, probably something that Anne wouldn't have sewn herself, but it had value, and she knew Anne would appreciate it.

It was something that she had always looked forward to christening her own son in. It was something that she proudly had Mary's nurse dress her in before her baptism, almost 12 years before. It was very difficult to give up, because it was a tantamount expression to the fact that she lost. It was the last remaining portion of her life as a child-bearing woman, the last thread of hope she had to bear a living child. It was all over for her, and Anne needed to have it. She had to let go of the past.

Anne looked at the old gown in her hand. Its stitching had worn, probably from the years of clothing different children of different sizes. She could tell that the material was rich, but it was also worn from the years of use, or in Katherine's case, 12 years of sitting dormant in some kind of chest. The pattern was not very elaborate and the white coloring was extremely faded and almost yellow. Her first thought was to politely accept Katherine's gift, and leave it in her room for the rest of time, and use the gown that Lisbeth was christened in as the new royal gown, hoping that Katherine wouldn't notice the snub.

Yet, upon further thought and inspection, this clearly was a lot for Katherine. Her daughter had been christened in this gown, and Anne was aware that after the Princess of Wales' untimely death, all of her clothing, bedding, and any other belongings had to be burned because of her disease. Katherine probably only had a few belongings left to remember her daughter by, those that were sent from Ludlow back to Whitehall, and Mary's baby clothes. This gown was probably one of the few things that Katherine had left from Mary's short life, and she was giving it to her. This was the royal baptismal gown, and it all the sudden dawned on her.

Katherine was admitting she was the next Queen of England. It was like she was declaring her heiress. How could she refuse to use such a gift, no matter how worn it truly was?

"Thank you, Katherine, this was the kindest thing that you could have given me," Anne replied, and meant it. It was not only a material gift, but a symbolic one, and for that, Anne was grateful. Katherine was certainly not a malleable woman; she was proud and stubborn like her mother before it. Giving up her last connection to become the mother of England's heirs was a lot for her, and Anne appreciated the gesture.

"He is a beautiful baby, Anne, and someday, he is going to be a great King. But not before his mother gets to become a great Queen," Katherine replied, smiling and grabbing Anne's hand. "I cannot hold onto to some false hope anymore. My time has come and gone, God has other plans for me, and for Arthur. He wants you to be Queen after me, and I have to accept that. Like my mother said, all actions are a part of God's will, no matter how difficult they are to accept. I cannot deny it any longer."

All Anne could do was pull Katherine into an awkward embrace, both women visibly sobbing from joy and relief. The Queen and Duchess of York had finally found peace amongst each other.

_This isn't the best chapter, or the longest, but I felt like I needed to end it there. I hope everyone enjoyed! This was basically the closing of a part of the storyline that needed closure. Next chapter will be more Henry/Anne centric, and will most likely include a time jump and Jane Seymour. In the mean time… please review! :) Thanks for reading everyone._


	36. Chapter Thirty Six

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! I need to, once again, apologize for the horrible delay. Writing has been the last thing on my mind this past month, but now I'm on break and I can (hopefully!) get at least two updates to you guys. Well, this story has been going on for nearly a year, and I cannot believe it! A huge thanks to all of my reviewers/favoriters/alerters/readers, I really didn't expect this story to become such a hit! You've flattered me and made me feel very successful and I cannot thank you all enough. Anyway… this chapter is the opening to the final plot arc of this story- Jane Seymour. **This final arc is very Anne/Henry centric, but Katherine and Arthur will be featured.** **Please also note the time jump at the beginning of the chapter. **

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;]

Without further ado- Chapter Thirty Six of King Arthur II! Please don't forget to review :)

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**Hampton Court**

_April 8, 1529_

"How far along are you?" Elizabeth of York questioned her youngest daughter-in-law as they walked in the gardens of Hampton Court, the smell of freshly cut flowers filling her nose and the sounds her laughing and joyous grandchildren filling her ears. "By the looks of you, I cannot say more than four months," she added in an afterthought, staring at Anne's belly. It seemed to Elizabeth that every time she spoke to Anne; she was in the midst of trying to get pregnant or thinking that she was.

"Five. And it's never made me so tired before. Henry thinks it's because it's another boy, but yet again, I never have a feel for it. Katherine thinks it's a girl, because of the cravings I've been having, but I just never know," Anne explained, placing another hand over her stomach, waiting for the baby to kick. She enjoyed being pregnant, mostly because when she was with child, Henry was far more attentive to her and the children, and was less likely to go for long hunting trips with Brandon. But when she was with Lisbeth and Edward, she never felt this worn-down, and now often took midday naps.

Luckily, she had a very patient husband, and despite his impatient nature, he was very patient and protective of her and their child- more often than not, he encouraged her to take more rest and to stay away from the rich dishes of their court when she was feeling unwell. He even went out of his way to buy out of season fruits, whichever ones she happened to be craving at the time. And when she was unable to go down the nursery on certain days, he brought the children to her, and they began to spend more time as a family.

On this day, she had encouraged him to go hunting, since it was the first nice day they had in a while. And while she loved his attention, she didn't have the heart to admit that on some days, she just wanted her space. Later, like he always done since they gotten married five years ago, he would come to have supper with her, but for now she was content with talking to Elizabeth and having the children amuse themselves outside under the watchful eyes of their governesses.

"Harry ALWAYS thinks it's a boy," Elizabeth joked, and they both laughed, even though it still made Elizabeth a bit uncomfortable, and angry, to think about her son's attitude towards having daughters. She knew that two years ago, Anne wouldn't have laughed, and neither would she.

"He considers himself an optimist, I suppose. I'm just happy we have Edward; I couldn't have taken the pressure for another two years. How did you deal with it?" Anne asked. The older woman hardly talked about her days as Queen, while she was married to the miserly and cold Henry VII, who didn't even view Henry's sisters as anything more than burdens. Anne could imagine why she wouldn't like to relive those horrible days, but that didn't stop her from becoming curious.

"Well I was fortunate enough to always be with child, so my Henry usually was just confined to praying for a son, and another, and another. And I was lucky enough to have Arthur as my first born," Elizabeth explained. She knew that Anne was curious, but she didn't like to think about her days as Queen. Unlike Katherine's, they weren't the most pleasant days of her life, and much preferred her time as Dowager Queen, where she had a considerable amount of influence, compared to before. If she lived to see Henry be crowned, she knew that whatever she wanted she would get- even if she was never ambitious or demanding.

"Is there anything I can do about the fatigue? Some mornings I don't even want to get out of bed. Today I feel much more energetic, and I'm hoping it's because of the sunshine, but I can never be sure. Even during the winter there was sun, it was just too cold to stay outside. I never felt like this, and it's so hard to focus on my children, on my life even," Anne explained. She didn't know if she could stand four more months of her constant tiredness, and she knew that she got bigger, that it would get worse until she would have to go into early confinement- unless Elizabeth had a remedy.

"Just continue to rest, my dear. Don't overexert yourself, and while exercise is good for the child, too much of it can be a problem. Walking like we are now is good, in moderation. Rest and an optimistic and worry-free disposition, along with a wholesome diet, will make this easier for you," Elizabeth advised. Anne had a relativity easy time with childbirth up until this point, and while Elizabeth knew it could be difficult, she would be much better off just taking each month a day at a time and taking care of herself. The life that her son and his wife led was an intense one, with little rest, and she was sure Anne was impatient to get back to that, but her child was more important.

"Thank you mother," Anne said, continuing to walk with her hand over her belly, ignoring the discomfort she felt as the child moved.

"Hal looks very morose today. He isn't playing with the other children," Elizabeth observed after a few moments of comfortable silence had passed. She hoped that Hal wasn't feeling left out because of the younger children who required more attention, but she knew it was only natural that he would feel that way. Edward Brandon was the only other child close to Hal in age; but Elizabeth knew it was more than that. All of the other children living at Hampton could claim legitimacy. And although Hal was only eight years old, Henry had told her once before that because of slip of his now ex-governess, Hal knew of his bastard status.

Anne was very good with him, Elizabeth knew that, but yet she knew that it had to be difficult for Hal- having been raised by a woman who was not his 'real' mother and having to adjust to have two younger siblings who were shown more respect and given more things than him. All of the children shared a nursery, but in only a matter of years, their difference in statuses would become painfully clear to Hal, and she could only guess that some of the attendants didn't treat him with the same kind of deference as Lisbeth and Edward- even Mary and Brandon's children were probably treated with a bit more reverence than Hal was, despite Henry's firm insistence that Hal was to be treated as if he was his legitimate son. But with Edward being born and growing up, Hal probably no longer knew where he stood.

"I should go and talk to him," Anne announced after glancing over at the boy she had come to love as her son, noticing his indifference towards the game his siblings and cousins were playing. She knew that she had neglected Hal far more than she had in the past, before she had children of her own. Hal was still her son, but she didn't feel the same bond with him as Lisbeth and Edward, and given that they were younger and needed more attention, she didn't spend as much time with Hal as she used to. She never explained to Hal why, and knowing children (and Hal's own rocky beginning with the idea of having Lisbeth as a sibling) he had probably come up with a few unpleasant and lonely conclusions- none of which being true.

Elizabeth simply nodded and gave a smile in agreement, before walking over to Lisbeth and Edward and giving them both hugs and receiving their sloppy kisses. She couldn't believe that for a few brief, terrifying years, Henry was going to be entering the church instead of marrying and having children. Elizabeth couldn't imagine her life without her three grandchildren given to her by Henry-while she loved all of her others, and mourned dearly for the loss of Arthur's Mary, Henry had always been her favorite child and she felt just a slightly deeper connection towards his children.

"Hal," Anne greeted her stepson kindly and gently, not wanting to disturb him. His mind appeared to be wandering into a distant place, and she knew right away that something was amiss about the boy she had come to love as her own. "Why aren't you playing with the other children?" she asked, hoping that she would get some kind of response.

"I didn't feel like it today, that's all," Hal brushed off, not even looking into Anne's eyes.

"Let's sit down and talk, okay? We haven't gotten to in a while," Anne offered, motioning towards the bench. Hal seemed to be admiring the garden- which Anne had to admit was distracting, since it was so intricately designed- but he didn't even once look at her with the admiration and adoration she had grown used to receiving from all of her children. He looked more hurt and detached, not feelings an eight year old boy should have been having. Immediately, Anne felt guilt rise in her stomach. Her child kicked in response, and she shifted to hide and squash her discomfort, and for the first time, she was slightly glad that Hal wasn't paying attention to her, but she flattened that thought.

"Hal, darling, what's wrong?" Anne inquired after a few more moments of silence, after it had become clear that he was not in a mood to talk freely. She couldn't even pinpoint an exact date that Hal had begun to act so aloof, but thinking back, she knew it had been going on for a while.

First, his governess declared he was a bastard, while Henry had wanted to wait. The cold stares towards Edward when he was brought to the nursery, after they had announced him as the Earl of Kendal, were not lost on either Henry or Anne, but they chose to ignore it. He never came to visit them, and when his governess brought him down to see his parents; he didn't speak as much as he did when he first came to live with them at Hampton. It had been this way since Edward was born, and Anne felt terrible for not acknowledging it sooner. If she were Hal, she would feel lonely too.

"Why do you care? You have Edward to worry about now. You and father should be making sure that he doesn't slip and break a bone, not wasting your time talking to me. He is, after all, your _only_ male heir," Hal replied, finally looking up at Anne, his eyes full of pain. He tried really hard to be nice to baby Edward when he first came to live in the nursery, but it was so difficult to when he was being pushed to the back and ignored. He knew what he was now, even though he was only eight, he knew that his REAL mother was dead and that the Duchess of York was forced to treat him like a natural born son when his mother died because his father commanded it. Not because she ever cared about him, or for his welfare. Because she felt sorry for him. Because she didn't want her husband to be angry at her.

He felt like such a fool for falling for her act and for falling for his father's apparent care for him, to treat him like the rest of his siblings. As soon as Lisbeth and Edward came, it was clear who the favorite was, and it certainly wasn't him. Lisbeth was going to become a Princess of England someday, once his Uncle Arthur passed on the crown to his father, and Edward was going to become the Prince of Wales and the next heir apparent to the throne. They were both going to have royal marriages arranged for them, they were both going to have large households of their own once they got old enough, they were both going to sit at the head of tables at important events, and they were both going to be given everything money could be. They were going to be acknowledged by the people as the future of England.

And no matter if his father was King or just the Duke of York, he was still going to be his bastard, and people weren't going to treat him the same as they did his siblings. And the woman he had come to know as mother would never love him as much as she loved her REAL children.

"What? You know I love you. Your father and I both love you just as much as we love Lisbeth and Edward. I thought you knew that," Anne replied, stunned and hurt. She knew that he was feeling left out, but the question their love for him? It chilled her to the bone, and once again, the child in her womb kicked in response, and she clutched her stomach. Luckily, the babe had settled quickly, but she cursed her body for bringing her such a hard pregnancy after two painless ones.

"How am I supposed to know that, when Edward and Lisbeth are given so much? I am grateful for your kindness to me, your grace, but we both know that no matter what happens, Edward and Lisbeth are your children, and nothing will change the fact that I'm not," Hal replied sharply, rising to get up, no longer able to look at her face. It hurt too much.

Anne put a gentle harm on his sleeve. "Sit down," she commanded as gently as she could without sounding passive. "Listen to me, I love you. I've loved you since you brought here when you were just a little boy, scared, alone, and motherless. At first, it was because your father wanted me to, but it soon became more than that. You grew on me Hal, and because of you, I couldn't wait to have more children! Not to replace you, but to feel the same joy your mother must have felt raising you, holding you when you were a babe. If I had a choice, I would love to be your real mother. But I can't be. God has a plan for all of us, and I could NEVER question it. But I could love you, treat you as my own, and give you siblings," Anne explained, feeling her eyes water.

"But I'm not the same as them! My mother was not father's wife, you are. And because of that, I will never be given the same things as them. How do you think that makes me feel?" Hal rhetorically questioned, his words far beyond an eight-year- old's average maturity level. "I love Lisbeth and I love Edward too. And I love you, and I love papa. But sometimes it doesn't feel like anybody loves me."

"But we do!" Anne protested, at a loss for words. She had said all that she felt, and if Hal couldn't accept her words as truth, then she didn't know what on earth she was going to do.

"You don't show it now, now that you have Lisbeth and Edward. And when papa becomes King, what will happen then? I'll be even more ignored, because the prince and princess of a King aren't treated the same as his _bastard_ son. I know you both tried to hide it from me but I'm not stupid and I know the truth now," he sharply replied, his words once again beyond his age, and Anne was glad that Henry's investment in his education was paying off, even if it broke her heart to see him so upset.

"What do I have to do, as your mother, to prove to you that I love you just as much as Lisbeth and Edward? Just because I bore them doesn't mean they have taken your place. They are still your brother and sister, and they adore their older brother. I view you all as my children, and if you notice, you aren't separated from them. You are given the same education and share the same quarters as them," Anne explained. She and Henry had tried desperately to prove to Hal that just because he wasn't legitimate or as honored as his brother and sister, that he was just as important.

"Edward will get a pretty wife. Lisbeth will get a rich husband. And I will be married to a nobody," Hal wryly replied, and Anne was once again in shock that he had learned this much, and wanted to hit the first person who told her precious, innocent son all of this terrible information! "I know you love me, and I love you too. But no matter how you try to hide it, I will never be the same as my siblings, and I will never get everything they have, and nobody will ever treat me the same as them."

It suddenly dawned on Anne that it wasn't because Hal was not given enough love or attention; it's that he wasn't even a fancy title like his siblings, or given as much space or material possessions, so he must have come to the conclusion that they valued him less. "Why do you need a rich, royal wife to be happy Hal? We provide for you more than most children have, and I know you don't quite understand how lucky you are now, but you will someday. Even luckier than Edward, Lisbeth, and this child I'm carrying in some respects," Anne explained.

"You're lying. They will be princesses and princes of England. That's much better than a bastard," Hal assessed, unable to believe her words, and knew that she was really lying now.

"Really? Lisbeth, even if she falls in love with the most wonderful English commoner, will never be allowed to marry him. When she comes of age, she will most likely be taken to some foreign country, like your Aunt Katherine was, married into a strange and unfamiliar family, and if she's lucky, she'll fall in love with her chosen husband, but it won't be the same as if she had the freedom to choose," Anne explained, her heart hurting at the idea of her daughter being taken away, but she had to say it, for the effect.

"I know love isn't important to right now, but someday, it will be the most important thing. Because of your status as the King's son, you will have many women fawning over you, but unlike your siblings, you will have the liberty to fall in love with them. As long as she is of some good standing, if you fall in love with a pretty young woman, you can make her your wife, and she'll be lucky to have you," she finished, looking at him seriously.

"I never thought about it that way," Hal whispered in awe, unable to believe that he had overlooked something so important! Even if Edward was the Prince of Wales in the future, he wouldn't be allowed to have any fun! He'd have to learn how to be a King, and Lisbeth would have to learn how to become a good wife and Queen to her future husband, whoever he would be. They were all lucky to have royal blood flowing through their veins, and even if Lisbeth and Edward were more important, they had more responsibilities, while Hal could have more fun.

"Your father would never let you led a life where you weren't respected. He cannot make you legitimate, but he can give you money, and titles, once he becomes King. And that will make you a very eligible bridegroom, and you can build houses and other things with all of the money that comes along with being a King's son. You just don't have to learn how to be a ruler, just a good son to your father and I. Which you don't have to worry about, because you make us both very proud," Anne lovingly explained, hoping that although her outlook on her own children's future was more cynical than it had to be (if they were raised that way, they wouldn't mind it) that it still had a considerably happy effect on Hal.

"Thank you mama!" Hal brightened, throwing his arms around his mother and giving her a sloppy kiss on the check.

"Run along and play now," Anne lightheartedly commanded, smiling as he made his way over to his cousins and siblings, with the most genuine smile she had seen in a while.

She motioned for her ladies to come over and help her stand, since she was feeling a bit lightheaded- the combination of the sun and her pregnancy was already making her feel more fatigued. She had every intention of going to her rooms and taking a long nap, comfortable with the idea of leaving her children outside with their governess and Elizabeth.

With her sister's hand on her arm and Madge Shelton's on the other, she slowly stood up, and began walking towards the palace, when she felt a terrible pain shot through her stomach, her thoughts immediately turning to panic. "My lady, what's wrong?" Madge questioned, tightening her grip on Anne when she felt her go weak.

"I'm fine, I've been feeling like this all day," she lied, trying to put on a pleasant façade, but when she felt her stomach flip once again and a dreadful pain ripple through her again, she knew something was wrong. "The baby," she whispered, feeling a warm liquid run down her petticoats. She put her hand underneath her gown and was horrified to see blood staining her finger tips. "What's happening?!" she heard a voice yell, not even recognizing the sound of her own for a moment. The whole thing just felt so surreal. She couldn't be losing it… just couldn't be.

"Oh no, she's miscarrying, someone get Linacre and send someone after the Duke!" she heard her sister yell, and she saw flashes of gowns and heard her children scream in the background, while their grandmother tried to hush them, even though she knew Elizabeth well enough to hear her voice shake.

She passed out to the sound of panicked people bustling about her in the sunlight of English morning.

* * *

When Henry heard the screaming stop, he thought his heart did too.

During the birth of their first two children, Henry was comforted by the halt of the screaming, knowing that it meant that his wife had made it through labor okay, and their child had been pushed into the world safely. When the screaming stopped during normal circumstances, it usually meant that he was going to meet his new son (or daughter).

On this day though, he knew that screaming meant that she was still alive, and that their child still had a chance. If Anne died- so did their child. If Anne died, he would be without the one woman who brought him joy, who made him feel whole for the first time in his whole entire life.

He couldn't lose her. He rode as fast as he could through the woods, leaving a half-dead deer where it was, not even bothering to make sure that Brandon was following him, just so he could be with her. When the groom told him that Anne started bleeding in the garden and had passed out for a short time- only to wake up screaming- Henry didn't even think twice. He left the deer, and his friend, in the middle of the woods and made towards Hampton, grateful that he chose to stay close because his wife had been having a difficult time with her pregnancy.

He should have never left Hampton the first place, because he knew that she had been having trouble lately, and he cursed himself for not being there when she needed him.

Linacre emerged a few moments after Anne's screaming had subsided, and Henry almost ran over the man in anticipation. His mother, Anne's father and brother, as well as Arthur and Katherine who had come as soon as they heard, were huddling around, waiting for the news. His sons and daughter wanted to make sure that their mother was alright, but Henry didn't want to worry them, and sent them away to the nursery. He couldn't stand the idea of his children hearing their mother scream as she struggled to save the precious life inside of her.

"The child, and the Duchess, both live," Linacre addressed the topic on everyone's mind and managed a smile at everyone's signs of relief. "She had a hard time in there, and she lost a great deal of blood. As far as I know, the child is healthy, but her grace has been having a rough time before this near tragedy, so it is my opinion that she should stay in bed for the reminder of her pregnancy, constantly monitored by a midwife, and I will make regular visits with her, to make sure that nothing else goes amiss."

"Thank you, sir, for your care towards the Duchess and her baby," Arthur thanked, noticing that he was the only one who was able to speak, as the rest looked too relived, and a few had tears in their eyes. Once Linacre had left, and the Boleyns as well, Arthur clasped a hand around his brother's shoulder. "I think you need to see her now. The best medicine is going to be your presence," Arthur explained, giving his brother a weak smile. He had been through this many times before, and usually his news was not as pleasant as Henry's, but he knew that if Henry saw Anne, she would feel better.

Henry wordlessly nodded and walked into her chambers, which looked somewhat like a war zone. Women were bustling hurriedly through her outer chamber, and only a few even noticed his arrival, curtsying and whispered his title sadly. He ignored the blood being scrubbed out gown, and was half-tempted to tell them to just throw it away. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about the near loss of their child, and he didn't want any reminder of how close they had been. Before reaching her bedchamber, he put on a brave smile, fake as ever. He knew it was necessary though, he had to be strong for his wife.

"The baby," she muttered as soon as she heard Henry enter, her drowsy eyes locking with his own sad ones, but they were so blank Henry didn't even think she was registering his presence. "My child," she muttered again, not even acknowledging that she had seen Henry.

"Linacre gave her a calming tonic. I don't think she remembers much of anything that happened. Its better that way, in any case," Anne's sister said as she left her sister's side, giving Henry a weak smile. "She asked for you, but Linacre wouldn't let anybody in." She left in order to give the couple a bit of privacy, even though she knew other ladies would be listening in still. God knows that they didn't get much to begin with.

Henry nodded at Mary Carey before entering the room and pulling a chair next to his wife's drowsy figure. "Hello sweetheart," he greeted gently, placing his hand in hers, trying not to notice how cold it was. "How are you feeling?" he asked, feeling out of words and out of sorts, but he had to say something, even if he already knew the answer. It was obvious that Anne was not feeling well.

"The baby," she muttered again, frantically meeting his eyes. "Did I lose it?" she asked, sounding a bit more coherent, but just as panicked.

"No, no, he lives," Henry hastened to assure her. He took her hand in his and placed it over her swollen stomach, holding it there until their son kicked again, assuring both of his parents that he was still alive and strong. When he saw Anne's eyes twinkle with tears, he knew that Linacre wasn't lying, and he was filled with hope. They would make it through the next four months, mother and child, healthy as they were before this. "And for the next four months, you are going to stay in bed, and you and he, you are both going to thrive."

"I'll do whatever it takes," Anne replied, the feel of her child kicking was enough to renew her strength for a few moments. Staying in her rooms for four long months would be difficult for her, but when their child came, healthy and strong, it would be worth it. Even if it would be like torture.

"I know, sweetheart, and that's why I love you," Henry replied, giving her a quick kiss and getting up to move. "Get some rest," he commanded, giving her another genuine smile before turning around to leave.

"Henry! Wait!" Anne yelled, sitting up from her bed. "You'll wait for me, right?" She knew it wasn't uncommon for husbands, especially well-born ones, to betray their pregnant wives, but he never had before. But usually, she only spent weeks in confinement, never months. If she wasn't constantly by his side, she didn't know what would happen. She trusted Henry, but she also knew him. She needed to be sure, or else it would drive her insane while she lied in bed like an exploded invalid, unable to be with her husband.

"Of course, sweetheart. We waited a whole year to be married, what's four months?" Henry rhetorically questioned, more to himself than to Anne. But he would stay faithful. For their child's sake… and for his own.

* * *

_Two weeks later_

"How are the Duchess and the baby?" Brandon asked as he and Henry rode out together, the sun just beginning to set below the trees. It would be dark soon, but he knew that Henry wanted to finish chasing after this stag. When they lost it, however, Henry made no move to turn back to Hampton, but instead he dismounted from his horse alongside a creek and splashed some water over his face.

A few moments later, he finally answered Brandon's question. "They are both well, Anne is bored out of her mind but has plenty of visitors," Henry explained. All of their family was constantly visiting Anne, making sure she didn't become too idle, or else she would begin to complain about the restrictions placed on her, and that would do nothing to help their child. God forbid she would actually lose it, because Henry didn't know if he could take that kind of loss. He had visited her earlier that day, but she insisted that he didn't stay too long, knowing that he hadn't had a chance to go hunting since she almost lost the child.

The two men sat in thoughtful silence for a few more moments before Brandon finally broke it, "It's going to be dark in a few hours, I don't know if we have time to make it back to Hampton, unless we ride fast" Brandon explained.

"Who lives around here, then?" Henry asked, not in the mood to take too brisk of a ride. He sent one of his grooms off with a message, so Anne and his mother wouldn't be worried about him, and told the boy to ride fast so he wouldn't be riding in the dark.

"There's Wolf Hall," Brandon mentioned, and when he saw the confused look on Henry's face, he elaborated, "Sir John Seymour's estate. He used to be in your household when you lived at Richmond with your father." Brandon made it a habit to know who lived around where, knowing that Henry would never learn, and he didn't want to be stuck in the dark anymore than the next person.

"Ah, I remember Sir John! Let's go pay him a visit, shall we?" Henry replied with a glimpse of mischief in his eyes. He knew that when a royal visited a noble's estate, it took a great deal of planning and sometimes they could be in debt for years- or worse, never recover from the costs of entertaining the royal family. Henry knew that his status as Duke of York didn't require as much as if Arthur had dropped by for an unexpected visit, but he knew that the Seymours would be flabbergasted by it, but he wasn't doing this to impose. He really did need a place to stay, and he thought that even if it would be a lot, the Seymours would consider it an honor.

Brandon and Henry reached Wolf Hall shortly before nightfall, and already Henry felt at ease with the country-like atmosphere of the estate, how it was small yet proud. It reminded him of pleasant days at Eltham, before Margaret Beaufort made it her personal goal to destroy any chance of a normal, stable childhood. One of Henry's favorite memories from his childhood was when he was no more than five, running around with his old sister chasing him through the gardens, tumbling in the grass as if they were not royal- just normal children without a care in the world.

Wolf Hall reminded him of a time when he didn't even know that he and his brother would be in competition. Reminded him of a time before he fell in love, before he felt the stress of having to be the unnoticed Tudor, before he had to fight for everything he had, before he experienced the panic of almost losing a child. Before the idea of being faithful to one woman, even as she grew unattractive and morose as her belly expanded, was going to be one of those most difficult things he ever had to do.

"Sir John!" Brandon exclaimed as soon as they entered through the servant's entrance, and Henry felt like he was participating in some kind of masquerade. For a moment he felt pity for Sir John, but soon he was joining in with Brandon, screaming the poor man's name until he came out.

"What is all the noise…" Sir John said from a distance, but stopped as soon as he realized who it was. "Your grace, Master Brandon," Sir John said, still in awe from his visitors. "You are most welcome here!" he exclaimed, embracing the two.

"My friend, I hope we are not intruding. It was too late to go back to Hampton Court, and we needed a place to stay," Henry explained, remembering the man from his childhood more vividly now that he could place a face to the name. Sir John was kind to him, like most of his attendants were, but he often went out of his way. Henry remembered missing him when Arthur became King and households got rearranged, but soon his life was thrown into such a whirlwind that he had completely forgotten about the old member of his household.

"Not at all. I will alert my kitchen staff that you have arrived, and have my servants prepare two rooms," Sir John calmly explained, motioning for two other servants to take care of Henry and Brandon while he sorted out the details.

Within an hour, the three old friends were remising on old times, catching up on things, and Henry couldn't remember feeling this, well, _normal_ in a long time. He enjoyed his lavish life at Hampton, and he enjoyed being married to a beautiful woman of his choosing. But he also never really had the chance to having private conversations with people, to act like a regular person, since he was so used to be treated with deference and a bit of isolation. It felt nice to take a break from his everyday life.

While he was enjoying the meal, he glanced up and saw what he thought was angel standing down the hall. Dressed in all white, with blonde flaxen hair, and a rosy, smiling face, he was transfixed.

"Oh, your grace, allow me to introduce my daughter, the Lady Jane Seymour," Sir John said as Jane approached the handsome Duke, in awe of his obvious importance. Henry knew right away that this young woman had probably never been to court before, and he was touched by her innocence and the way that she looked at him like he was a King.

When she bowed before him, all he could do was stare with wide eyes at the beautiful woman before him. "Jane," he whispered, lightly grasping onto her shoulders and pulling her up to face him. Her smile was open, honest, like the rest of this family and house, Henry thought. He took a strand of her golden hair and toyed with it between his fingers, and was overcome with a desire to take her into his arms and kiss her.

"_You'll wait for me, right?" _

So he kissed her hand instead, and told himself that it was innocent.

And after Jane had left them, and Sir John explained that he had been trying for years to get a place for his eldest daughter in the Queen's household, Henry knew it was for innocent reasons that he appointed Jane to Anne's instead. He told himself it was important to court the nobles, so they'd all be with him when he became King, and it was only because he liked the idea of his wife running a better household than Katherine that he did.

But he knew the truth: when he saw Jane, touched her blonde hair, he couldn't help but feel attracted to her because she was different than ANYTHING he had ever known. And he for some reason, he felt like he needed that.

_Not sure how I feel about this chapter. I'm happy with the last two sections, first one, I'm still eh about Hal's conversation with Anne. But anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed it and I'm sorry, once again, for how long it took for me to update. Please don't forget to review until next time :)_

_And Happy Holidays to everyone! Be safe and eat lots ;)_


	37. Chapter Thirty Seven

**Author's Note: **Welcome back to King Arthur II! I know it's been nearly two months since I last updated, and you must forgive me for being so remiss. It's been on a list of things to do for a while now, and I just have not gotten around to it. Between cheer, looking for scholarships, school newspaper, and whatever social life I have left I've been too swamped or tired to write this. So, I hope you all enjoy this update, and I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! This story and its success is definitely a huge accomplishment for me.

_Disclaimer: _This is a work of AU fanfiction. All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events, and are taken only for the purposes of this story. All recognizable characters are the property of Showtime and history. I don't own history; I just mess around with it ;]

A thanks to ReganX, who helped me come up with some of these plot ideas a long time ago :) She's the best.

Without further ado, the next installment of King Arthur II! Please don't forget to review :)

* * *

**Hampton Court**

_April 30, 1529_

"Sister, the Duke has appointed a new member to your household," Mary Carey announced as she walked into his sister's bedchamber, pulling back the shutters to reveal the light and placing Anne's breakfast on her lap. "Jane Seymour, daughter of Sir John Seymour. She's twenty years of age, unmarried, and has been living at her father's estate, Wolf Hall, for her whole entire life. Apparently very uneducated as well," Mary elaborated.

"What? Why?" Anne questioned. Usually Henry left most of her household matters up to her, only giving her the occasional suggestion, but never an actual mandated appointment. Anne felt an uncomfortable realization fall upon her, and it sickened her for a moment, and the simple breakfast of cheese, bread, and wine looked incredibly unappealing all the sudden. "No, no, oh Henry. You promised me," she whispered aside, hoping her sister did not hear her. The ladies of her chamber already fretted over her health, both physical and mental, every hour of everyday. She didn't know if she could take it anymore.

"I'm sure the Duke is just repaying Sir John for his generous hospitality towards him and Brandon a few nights past. His grace would be wise to do that, you know that just as well as I do Annie. Besides, Lady Jane has been looking for a place in Queen Katherine's household for ages, and you know his grace wants to outdo them in everything. I wouldn't read too much into it," Mary hastened to reassure her. The last thing her sister needed to do was worry about some imagined infidelity. This particular pregnancy had made her sister more parodied and irritable than those past, and she had already almost lost the child once.

"What does she look like?" Anne asked. She dreaded hearing about it, but she had to ask. She pictured a beautiful, busty, classical English beauty- similar to the sister standing right in front of her. She had never been one of those women, and she knew it was only a matter of time before Henry found one to occupy his time with. She just didn't think it would hurt this much, or that she'd feel like such a fool for believing his promise to her.

She thought she had no reason to doubt him, though. He had never shown signs of being an unfaithful husband to her… but then again, when had she not been able to be a wife to him? Since they had married she had been by his side almost constantly, only a few months when she went in confinement, but he was always occupied with thoughts of having children to not even care that she was unable to be with him at all times. But this time, it was different. It wasn't as if she was attractive anymore; this child had made her larger than Lisbeth or Edward did, she didn't bathe as much as she should since there was really no reason to, all she wore were white nightgowns and her feet had swelled to five times their original size. Never before in her life had she felt so unbeautiful.

And even when she was too large to please him when she was heavy with Lisbeth and Edward, at least she was allowed to dine with him, be with him more than a few minutes out of the day. Henry was not the type of man to stay for more than an hour at a time by her bedside, now that things had settled. She understood that, or at least tried to, and comforted herself with his promise, that he would wait for her and the child to come, safe and sound, and stay faithful to her. Now some little Seymour wench, younger and prettier than she, was out to steal his affections and weaseled her way into her household- a viper in her nest.

She knew that it wasn't good for the child inside of her to worry so much, but she couldn't help it. This wasn't the way that she imagined her marriage to Henry being like… it wasn't supposed to turn out this way. No other woman was supposed to even cross his mind- only her. She didn't think it was selfish to want a faithful and devoted husband.

Mary hesitated and could tell that her sister was very worried about this Jane Seymour. The last thing Anne needed was to be worried or concerned about something that would most likely prove to be nothing. "I don't know, I haven't seen her yet," Mary lied.

"Mary," she scolded. She couldn't handle being coddled and lied to. It would only make her fret more.

"She's a bit plain, if you want the truth. Blonde, fair, about the same height as you. A mouse of a woman, really. If you are concerned about Henry taking another woman to bed, I don't think you have to worry about her. I cannot see much in her that a man like Henry would find enticing," Mary soothed. She had only seen Jane in passing, as she had not yet been sworn into Anne's household. Jane seemed pretty enough to her, but she just could not imagine her brother-in-law contemplating taking her to bed. She just didn't seem interesting enough. But then again, appearances could be deceiving. Still, for Anne's sake, she assumed the worse about the girl she had never met.

And, Mary added to herself, as Anne nodded and drifted off to sleep; God save Jane Seymour if Anne's suspicions proved to be correct.

* * *

Jane Seymour walked briskly through the corridors of Hampton Court, in awe of the elaborate and intricate design of the palace and amazed at how many courtiers there were in attendance to the Duke of York and his wife. She felt herself grip her brother Edward's elbow much tighter as they were fast approaching the Duchess' rooms, her nerves beginning to get the best of her.

She had heard that the Duchess' household was filled with mostly highly accomplished, intelligent, and well-educated women. They were all young, pretty, interesting, and vibrant; and Hampton Court was known throughout Europe as being one of the most entertaining and enjoyable courts. Jane had not been raised in an environment that would make it easy for her to fit in; on the contrary, if her father was hinging any sort of investment on her future, it was to be in Queen Katherine's household.

Queen Katherine ran a pious, virtuous, and sterile household; the exact type that Jane was raised in. She was skilled with a needle and only knew how to write her name. She was a bit nervous, although still excited, when her father told her that the Duke had generously appointed her a position in the Duchess' household. He told her that it was a great opportunity for her and her family- and that she should be very grateful to the Duke, if she was fortunate enough to speak to him again during her time at court that she should thank him and be very gracious towards him.

She was a bit surprised when the Duke appointed her. She had really given him no reason to; but she accepted it anyway, though she did still wish that Queen Katherine would take her into her household. She understood that the Duke wanted to thank her father for his generous hospitality, but she thought that perhaps her one of her brothers would better serve at Hampton Court, since they were both far cleverer than she was. She figured that if the Duke really wanted to get the best use from her family, and really wanted to thank her father, he would have taken Edward or Tom into his service.

Nevertheless, she counted her blessings and hoped that service in the Duchess' household wouldn't be too difficult for her. Even if she wouldn't shine intellectuality, since the only education she was given was strictly domestic; she would still dedicate herself to becoming a loyal servant that the Duchess of York could count on. She would do whatever her new mistress asked of her, especially during her pregnancy, in hopes of gaining her favor, and to make her family proud, and hopefully, as it was her father's wish- to find a good husband.

She did want her father to be proud of her, after all! She was the oldest girl in her family, and she did not want to depend on his charity for the rest of her life and end up a spinster, alone and childless. She wanted to get married, and soon, since she had just turned twenty. She didn't want to see her sisters get married before her, and watch them have children and grandchildren. Her father had paid a great deal of money on new clothing and other such things required of her now that she was servicing a royal lady- all in the hopes that she would soon be provided with a dowry by her mistress and given a respectable husband. She would put as much effort into her appearance as possible without appearing wanton and she would utilize the sensible education her mother had given her in order to be desirable towards potential suitors and their families.

She just hoped that her new place in the Duchess' household would be as much of an opportunity as her father clearly thought it was going to be- and she hoped that the Duchess would find her pleasant company and that her time serving at Hampton would be worth her father's money. She thought it would be a refreshing change of pace from living in the country for the first twenty years of her life, and she looked forward to making friends with interesting men and women and having a different kind of fun than she had grown accustomed to.

Even if she was too nervous to speak and part of her still longed for the familiar surroundings of her country home.

"Wish me luck, Edward," Jane whispered, glad to have found her voice again, as faint as it was. She thought that the door into the Duchess' apartments looked imposing, but she drew courage from her optimistic outlook into her future and her father's reassuring words before she left.

"_I'm proud of you, Janey." _

And she intended to continue to make him proud, even if it meant facing people she was unprepared for, and develop social graces she was unfamiliar with- and to service a woman who was not her Queen and had high expectations of all of her ladies- expectations that she could never meet.

"You won't need it," Edward replied, smiling down at her and giving her a brisk kiss on the cheek. Although Edward was sometimes considered a cold fish by outsiders, Jane knew that her brother was just intelligent and shrewd. No matter what other people said, she knew that he loved her and her sisters and doted on them just as much as most older brothers did, and she was thankful for his presence at that moment.

And with a sigh, she hesitantly entered the Duchess' apartments, and like the rest of the palace, she was awe-struck by its splendor and space. She didn't know how she could get used to living in such a place, even though she was sure her own quarters would be far less spacious and beautiful. It certainly was a startlingly contrast from everything she had ever known, and for the umpteenth time that day she prayed that she would grow used to it and grow to love it.

"You must be Mistress Seymour," one of the ladies regarded her, a bit coldly, as soon as she entered.

Jane did not want to freeze or seem like a country simpleton, like most of the ladies probably assumed she was, so she curtsied as her governess taught her to do in the presence of important people when she was just a child. Until that moment, she never had cause to use her governess' lesson. "I am her, my lady," she replied, keeping her head downcast until the lady in front of her motioned her to rise.

"My name is Lady Mary Carey; I am her grace's sister and the chief lady-in-waiting. As you may or may not be aware of her, her grace is confined to her chambers for the reminder of her pregnancy, so it will be a moment before she is able to receive you. You may not speak unless you are spoken directly to, do you understand?" Mary asked, regarding her with chilly formality. Though she could not be sure if her sister's worries were truth or not, she still could not act pleasant towards the girl who may have hopes to become a close companion to her brother-in-law, even if she was sensible enough to acknowledge that it may not be even be Jane's fault.

"Of course, Lady Carey," Jane replied, bobbing another quick curtsy, hoping that this chilly reception was dished out to all of the newcomers, and not just her- as she was unaware what she had done wrong. Then again, the Boleyns were never close friends with her family, but surely now that they had risen to such great heights they had to be aware that the Seymours no longer had hopes to rival with them? Jane was just trying to do right by her father and her family title- she had no ambitions to rival any of the Boleyn family in anything.

Jane waited in silence for a few more moments before she was admitted into the Duchess' bedchamber. Before even getting a look at the woman who was to become her mistress, she dropped into a graceful curtsy, not even daring to look up or speak until the Duchess acknowledged her. She certainly hoped that the Duchess was kinder than her sister, who certainly was far colder towards her than she would have hoped for or liked. Their weren't rumors of her being unkind circulating through the country, so she could only hope that she would be as kind a mistress as Jane figured Queen Katherine was. If Anne was not a kind mistress, or took a random disliking to her like her sister did, than Jane's promise of a good marriage and pride for the Seymour name became much more difficult.

"Mistress Seymour, you may rise now" Anne said after an agonizingly long silence, leaving Jane down in curtsy for longer than she had with her other appointments. She was usually very genial with her new ladies, always wanting them to feel welcome in her household and hoping that she would make a new companion with each one that came in- instead of just having people unknown to her surround her.

However, if her inkling was right, she didn't want to make friends with Jane Seymour. All she wanted to do was find a rich, stupid man far enough way, supply Jane with a larger dowry than her father could have ever given her, and send her away as soon as possible. Jane had an open, pale face- she would certainly make a fine wife towards a man who wanted someone submissive and pretty. That would be just fine for Anne, who didn't want her anywhere near Henry, because looking at her, she would not be the type of woman who would have the audacity to refuse the advances of a powerful man.

Without even saying more than a few words to the girl, she knew who she was. She was the direct opposite of who she was. She was blonde, fair, and curvy- but it wasn't only her appearance that was drastically different from Anne's. Anne already knew that her personality would be what was most attractive to Henry for a mistress. She would never ever say no to a man like Henry, who was persuasive and powerful. And the best thing to do with a woman like this was just to marry her off. At least, that's what Katherine had told her.

Unbidden, her mind flashed to the most recent conversation she had with her sister-in-law.

"_Was Arthur ever unfaithful to you?" Anne asked once the two women had exchanged pleasantries and Katherine had stopped quizzing her about her health and the baby's. She had never heard anything but good about the King and Queen's marriage- and she remembered on more than one occasion witnessing Arthur's affection towards his wife. Still, even Kings could keep an affair secret, and Katherine had been pregnant a lot when she was younger. _

"_Never, and trust me, I would have known. My husband is very honest- even if he would have tried to keep it secret, I would have been able to tell," Katherine answered proudly. They had been married for so long; she knew him so well and knew that he could never hide his guilt. Even if they had their arguments, it was never about him being unfaithful or indecent towards other women. She never even had suspicions, though when she was insecure about something she would try her hardest to make sure that he didn't take a mistress. "I've been most lucky. When we are together, he only has eyes for me. It's one thing I've always been sure about." _

"_Not even when you were with heavy with child; you never had your doubts?" Anne asked, awestruck. King Francis always took a mistress when Queen Claude was with child- and even when she was not- and although she had not even heard the name Jane Seymour yet, she had every reason to believe that Henry would be unable to keep his promises to her, even at that time. He was not the type of man to wait on a fat and unhappy wife. _

"_Arthur was never a lusty man, so I never had cause to fear. Even so, I know he loved me, he feared for my health so much when I was pregnant that every time I would try for a son, it would offend him. He said nobody could replace me. In hindsight, it's sweet, even if at the time I was frustrated," Katherine explained, not mentioning the pain she felt when she was met with disappointment after disappointed when it came to childbirth. It was best not to speak of such things, doing so would not help Anne and it would only bring up painful memories for Katherine- things she would rather forget. _

_Anne was where the hope for England lay now, not in those countless dead children that she had never known. Even though she was quite fond of Anne now, she still wasn't comfortable enough speaking about those losses with anybody, especially to a pregnant woman who had complications before and to the woman who was going to have the title she expected for her son's wife- or even her own daughter. She hardly even spoke of them to Maria or Arthur, and she had assumed it was better if they stayed in her head. And it would risk her thinking about her dear sweet Mary- her hasty death that she was still grieving about. _

_Anne, sensing that the topic was an uncomfortable one for Katherine, changed the subject and got to her actual point. "I think Henry is going to take a mistress." _

"_Why? He has never taken one before when you were with child," Katherine hastened to reassure her, knowing first hand that unnecessary worry would do nothing good for the child who was not the strongest- not as strong as her first two had been. She genuinely cared for Anne- and for the dynasty that she and Arthur had built for nearly twenty years- and she did not want to see the precious life in her womb compromised by some kind of false paranoia. _

"_I don't know, I just fear it! Henry comes once a day, and for the rest of the day, I don't know where he is, who he is with. Perhaps he would be content if I was able to be with the whole day, but I can't. I'm here, and although my brother and sister tell me that he is just with Brandon and the rest of his friends- I wonder how long he will wait until he desires female company. My husband is not yours," Anne confided. She was so scared that he would find someone new that would rival his affections and hold his attention throughout the pregnancy and beyond. She couldn't stand the thought of it. _

"_Well, if you are right, do what my mother did. When my father held a mistress for too long, she pretended as if it did not bother her, and she would send the woman away with a rich man willing to take the King's leftovers and reap the benefits of it. My father noticed too late, and my mother held too much power over him for him to do much about it. Do not let Henry see your annoyance, be stronger than him and undermine him and his mistress." _

The circumstances were different of course; it would not be as easy as it was for Queen Isabella for Anne to rid herself of Jane Seymour. Henry wouldn't allow Anne to get away with it, since they were not co-rulers. But she had to at least try. For this baby's sake and for her children. Lisbeth, Edward, and Hal admired their father, and she would hate to see his name tarnished or worse- for her and her husband to be at odds and display a broken marriage before their children.

So she would treat Jane Seymour with icy politeness, so Henry wouldn't suspect anything- all the while working to get the simpleton a rich husband to get her out of there as quickly as possible.

"Thank you, your grace," Jane's words pulled her out of her thoughts, and renewed her anger at the girl that she barely knew. If she was honest with herself, she knew that Jane was probably scared, probably didn't know why Anne was being cruel to her- but that didn't matter to Anne. All that mattered was that this girl was gone. She couldn't find any charity in her heart; she couldn't find a place to be nice to this new appointment that was unaware of her husband's plans for her. All she felt was blind misdirected anger.

"My sister will administer your oath and get you started on your duties. Just so you know, Mistress Seymour, I run a virtuous household above all else. I expect all of my ladies to be above moral reproach. I expect all of them to draw spiritual nourishment from the bible placed in my outer chamber and to attend mass as required by me. I also expect my ladies to be skilled with a needle and to have some skill in something else of use. I'm expect, since my husband appointed you, without consulting me; that you will have some kind of talent that is pleasing to me," Anne sharply explained, facing Jane's open blue eyes with her own steely ones. "You leave me now," she commanded and breathed a sigh of relief when she left her bedchamber, and slumped down on her pillows, willing herself not to feel guilty.

She had done what she needed to do. She couldn't afford to feel guilty- not when her husband's love for her and their growing family was at stake.

* * *

"Mama!" Lisbeth cried out as soon as she crossed the threshold to her mama's apartments. Her mama couldn't come visit her anymore in the nursery, her papa and grandmamma had explained to her. It was because her baby brother or sister, who wasn't born yet (it was still in her mama's belly, which nobody would explain to her!) was making her mama feel sick and she had to stay in bed so the baby would be born alive and well. Lisbeth knew that it was important, but she still missed her mama's visits- and she knew that Edward and Hal did too, even though they were boys and claimed that they didn't need their mama anymore.

Edward especially tried to be like their older brother Hal (whose mama was different than theirs but he still called her mama- Lisbeth thought her family was very confusing) but Lisbeth knew that her baby brother missed their mama's daily visits since she had been forced to stay in her bed. At first, neither of them understood how a doctor could order the Duchess of York around, but Hal explained that their mama did it willingly and that they should be grateful that their future sibling was still alive and well.

It was just hard for Lisbeth and Edward, who were used to their mama coming to them- in which case their governesses and tutors would be forced to stop their lessons- to have to go to her and they could not always leave their lessons and so they saw their mama less and less. Their papa still came to visit, but he never did visit everyday like their mama did and although they enjoyed being around him, he just didn't play with them like their mama did and he didn't praise them as much or hug them as much. And besides, it was the most fun when their mama and papa came to visit them at the same time.

But then they remembered that their cousins, poor Edward Brandon and his sister Frances could never see their mama again and their papa hardly ever came, so they were told once again by Hal to be grateful for all that they had. Hal was a fun playmate but he was also their older brother and Lisbeth knew that he was just trying to teach and help them- only differently than their tutors did. Lisbeth loved her older brother but sometimes he could be so somber and boring and she thought that he just needed to have more fun.

But Lisbeth pushed those thoughts out of her head as she rushed over to her mother's bedside and tour out of the grasp of her grandmamma's hand, forgoing the idea of curtsying to her, forgetting that she was an important lady. Her mama didn't like her to be formal when they were in private. She outran her brothers by a few seconds, and was the first one jumping up to hug her mother- formidable beyond her four years.

"My darling Lisbeth, it's been too long!" Anne exclaimed, her mood brightened by the presence of her daughter and sons and she was able to forget the exchange she had that morning with Jane Seymour. Her children were her greatest blessing and greatest distraction. "Hal, Edward, come here and join your sister," she invited, patting the spaces around her in the large bed she had all to herself and had slept alone for too many nights. Her smiled widened when she realized that Elizabeth had joined them- although her mother-in-law came to visit her nearly every day, it was still nice to see her. "Mother," she greeted brightly after her children had settled comfortably.

"Hello Anne. I figured you could use a visit from your children," Elizabeth explained, glad to see her daughter-in-law so happy. She knew that staying isolated for the rest of this pregnancy would be hard for her, mostly because she couldn't' be with her family the whole day. Elizabeth was all too happy to get her grandchildren out of their lessons to see their mother.

"Mother, it wasn't because of our conversation that you almost lost the baby, is it?" Hal asked as soon as he had settled, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn't want Lisbeth and Edward, who were happily preoccupied putting their ears to their mother's belly to listen for the baby, to hear, since they were unaware of the full details of Anne's near-miscarriage. He knew that the conversation they had nearly a month ago was resolved, but he couldn't shake this feeling of guilt he had afterwards. He tried to suppress it, but it kept coming back stronger.

He was unaware of the many mysterious of childbirth, being a boy of only eight, but he knew that stress could cause women to have problems with having live children. He would never forgive himself if he was the reason that his mother was struggling with this pregnancy. They may have had their differences, but he knew the Duchess loved him like a son and Lisbeth and Edward were the best siblings he could have asked for- all he wanted was for his mother's next child to be as healthy as them.

"Heavens no! This baby has been giving me problems for months now, before the incident. You have nothing to do with it, sweetheart," Anne assured him, kissing his forehead and inviting him to feel the child kick with his younger siblings- not wanting such a young boy to have such heavy worries.

"Hal, the baby is so strong!" Edward exclaimed, his blue eyes (the same shade as his father's, Anne noted for the first time) were bright with amazement and excitement. "You didn't tell me that it would kick!"

"I know, Edward, I didn't know either," Hal admitted. Edward looked up to him, asked him many questions that he figured his big brother knew the answer to. Hal did the best he could to answer his brother's insistent questions, but he was just as unaware about the unborn as his little innocent brother was. Through the fabric of their mother's white nightgown it was easy to feel the baby kick, and Hal was amazed, although he tried to hide it.

"Well, I knew!" Lisbeth exclaimed, proud of herself for knowing more than her brothers. And there were some people who thought that boys were smarter! Lisbeth knew that if given the chance, she could outsmart her brothers. If she was the same age as Hal, she knew she would be smarter than him- and if she was given the same tutors as Edward was she would prove to be much quicker to learn. But since they were boys, they were given more than she was, even though her mama and papa did give her a better education than most girls received. She loved to learn, her lessons were her second favorite part of her day, and she knew that when they were all older she would prove to be better than Hal and Edward and this new baby, especially if it was a boy.

"Did you now? Very good, sweetheart," Anne praised, rubbing her daughter's fire-red hair. She knew that Lisbeth was very bright for her age, but every time she spoke to her daughter she became more and more impressed with her knowledge for being a mere four years old. Although Edward and Hal were both bright children for their ages, Lisbeth was praised by her household for being especially precocious. She was so proud that her daughter was just as smart as her brothers, knowing that when the day came, she would make an intelligent companion to her husband just like the women in her family before her.

After a few more hours of idle time with her children, she was just about to send them back to their nursery for their own supper, since hers was in the midst of being prepared, when her husband made his presence known. "I didn't know you had visitors, sweetheart," Henry said as soon as he walked into the room, smiling at the site of his mother and three children surrounding his wife.

It was hard for her, he knew that, to be in confinement for so long, but he was grateful for his mother and her ability to spend hours with Anne, since she knew that he was unable to stay by her bedside for more than an hour a day. The weather was so nice, his court so lively, that he found it difficult to be in a room waiting on his wife for a long period of time. He knew it was important that he come as often as he could, and at least once a day, to keep her spirits up- but he didn't see the need to be there all day, since he had other things to amuse himself with. His mother, being an older woman now, didn't mind spending more time with his wife.

On that day, he planned on eating supper with her, and was delighted to see his children and mother there already, and for the first time in a while, they could all eat together, out of the eyes of the prying court and just in the company of each other.

"Papa!" all three of them exclaimed in unison, running up to hug their father and tell them everything that they had been up to in the past week, which was when the last time he saw them. To an unknowing outsider, they were the perfect looking family, all three children clamoring for their father's attention, but Anne saw something different.

At first, she was charmed. Then, furious. Because as Lisbeth was explaining her progress with learning French, Henry appeared interested, but Anne knew him better than that. As Jane Seymour walked past, Henry's eyes moved from their daughter to watching her movements. Jane, for her part, gave Henry a shy smile and continued about her duties. Anne's teeth involuntarily gritted as Henry, having the decency to at least wait until Lisbeth was done speaking, walked over to Jane and began to speak to her.

She heard snippets of their conversation- Henry genially asking how she was settling in, how she liked his court, finally, if she would honor him by going hunting with him and Brandon the next morning so he may "get to know her better." Anne knew that it would work; Jane didn't have the courage to say no, Anne knew that about her already, especially after Henry promised that there would be other ladies present. There was nothing indecent about it on the outside, but Anne knew better than that.

Luckily, her children had already recovered from their father's departure and were entertained by something her sister was talking about, so they were unaware of their father's advances towards another woman. But Anne was still reeling with anger from the idea of Henry, who although appeared to be pleased by the idea of having the whole family together for supper- clearly just wanted to visit her so he may see Jane, who he took upon himself to appoint to HER household. He had the audacity to flirt with the wench in plain sight of their children- and in front of his pregnant wife!

Anne wanted to storm out of the room in a rage, if she had the power to, or slap Jane. But all she could do, feeling helpless and hormonal, was begin to silently cry after she saw Jane nod and Henry kiss her hand. She hoped her children wouldn't see her and worry, but they were distracted by Mary, and Anne thanked her sister inwardly. She didn't know what she would have done if her children had seen their father's behavior, or her loss of composure at the idea of Henry being so outwardly unfaithful. Even if he wasn't yet, Anne wasn't stupid; she knew what was going to happen.

Henry must of known- when he stayed the night at Wolfhall- that Jane was so easy! That Jane wouldn't say no, like she did all those years ago before they were married. She should have known that he wouldn't play the family man forever, that he still wanted to be known as the most handsome and desirable bachelor in all of England even though he was a married man with three children and a fourth on the way. She should have known that the first time that she experienced complications or a struggle and was unable to be a wife to him fully that he would forsake her for another woman- a woman who wouldn't be like she was.

"Anne," Elizabeth said gently, breaking her out of her trance. "What on earth is the matter?" she asked, concerned over her sudden mood swing, until she looked over to Henry laughing with a blonde lady-in-waiting and her grandchildren no longer talking to her son.

"Jane Seymour threatens my whole family that I worked so hard to create. We are so happy, mother! I will not have this serving wench destroy that. I will make her wish that her father never invited Henry to stay at their home. She will not be a happy servant in this household," Anne threatened, her voice filled with venom. "Watch her for me, will you?" Anne asked after a few moments pause, looking up at her mother-in-law with tears shining in her eyes. "I want to know if they engage in any more 'courtly' behaviors. I want to know if she becomes his mistress. I HAVE to know."

Elizabeth, knowing that this couldn't be good for Anne or the precious life in her womb; she knew she should have said no. That if her son really took a mistress, Anne was better left in ignorance. But Anne was already aware, and if it turned out to be nothing, than it would be good for her baby and for her. She couldn't say no, not when she was in so much distress. "I will, I promise."

"Thank you. Together, we will destroy any hope she has with my husband," Anne vowed, managing a smile but all the while knowing that she had to destroy Jane Seymour if she wanted to feel whole again.

_Okay, well that's it for this chapter. My cheer season ended on Saturday so hopefully I'll have more free time to get the next update to you guys a hell of a lot sooner than I got this one out. I know that this chapter didn't really move a lot of plot, but next chapter some big things are going to happen. I hope everyone enjoyed and I am sorry again for the wait. Please review, I love hearing what you have to think :) _


	38. Chapter Thirty Eight

**Author's Note: **Welcome back everybody! I would first of all, like to thank everyone for their positive reviews of last chapter. Jane Seymour is a challenging character to write- but with all of your encouragement and support, it's been a lot easier for me to overcome whatever ridiculous fears I have about this plot arc. So thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed thus far- 515 reviews! Never, in my wildest dreams, did I imagine this story to do so well, so thank you all! Now, on to the tardiness of this update. Three AP tests later, finally deciding where I'm going to college, and the school newspaper- and I can finally update. I'm so sorry for the wait.

Thanks again to **ReganX**, who never fails to be the best help a girl can ask for! And I dedicate this chapter to **TrivialQueen**, because she is lovely and I never do the things she asks me do, but she still dedicated a prompt to me in Oddments. I love her! Someday, my dear, I will write a Cromwell or Wolsey story to make you happy!

_Disclaimer: _All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events and are taken only for the purposes of the story. It's very AU. All recognizable characters are a property of Showtime and history. I don't write history, I just mess around with it ;]

Without further ado, please enjoy and don't forget to review!

* * *

**Hampton Court**

_May 4, 1529_

"Are you serious?!" Arthur exclaimed. He couldn't believe what Katherine was telling him- well he could believe, it was just that he didn't really want to. Henry had always been an impulsive, reckless, and selfish boy, and perhaps it was naïve of Arthur to think that years of marriage and children, in addition to the added burden of being the sole viable heir to the throne, would calm him; but Arthur had hoped in any case. He was very displeased to see that his brother had not forsaken more of his undesirable qualities.

"Unfortunately I am. Unless she is being unduly concerned, which I do not believe. He is not the most thoughtful man in the world, and he is still young. It's disappointing, but this is why I wanted to visit so badly. Anne is hurting, and she is distressed- which is not good for the child," Katherine explained. "I have not seen the girl, but your mother tells me that she has an open face. The fault lies with Henry, really, although the passive nature of this Seymour girl certainly isn't helping matters."

Arthur let out a pregnant sigh at this explanation, falling back into the comfortable chair in his wife's private chamber. It was rare for them to be alone, but at least at Hampton most of the courtiers were dancing in attendance to Anne and Henry- not necessarily interested in the happenings of their King and Queen. Still, he knew they only had a few precious moments before Maria came with a message from Anne- and Arthur intended to find out exactly what his brother was doing, and if it was harmless or if a bigger storm was brewing.

He knew that Henry wouldn't like Katherine and he meddling- especially when it came to Anne, which is why they had to do it discreetly. They came to Hampton with the pretense of just a friendly, family visit- with the hopes of being supportive towards Anne. Both he and Katherine wanted nothing more than for Henry and Anne to have a good marriage- it would bode ill for the future of the kingdom if they were to have rifts.

They wanted Henry to stop with whatever intentions he had towards Anne's lady-in-waiting; but that was unlikely. Since he had been a child, Arthur knew that when Henry wanted something, he found whatever way possible to get it, and nobody discouraged this. After all, Henry was only the second son- and nobody, not even their father, was even remotely prepared for the idea of Henry becoming the King. He could be as spoilt as he wanted- he didn't need to have justice or sensibility in his blood. And now the fault in his upbringing was coming out in his actions towards Jane Seymour, and towards the woman who he had fought tooth and nail to marry, the mother of his beloved daughter and younger son. His children by Anne, with God's help, would be the next heirs to their throne, and they were not going to let their upbringing be tainted like their unfortunate father's.

Arthur wanted so badly for his niece and nephew to grow up with loving parents, who would provide the nurture and upbringing that they would need to be smart, sensible rulers. They were, after all, the future of the dynasty he had spent his whole life trying to perfect. If Henry's little attraction could harm them in any way, he was determined to protect them and put a stop to it. Even if he had to be secretive about it.

"What should we do then?" Arthur asked, staring at his wife's face and marveling at how far she had come with accepting Anne. He knew that she would never fully trust or enjoy the company of Henry, but she adopted the task of mentoring Anne without reservation, despite how painful it probably was for her. Arthur knew that every day she missed their sweet, beautiful Mary- the girl whose future Katherine was so assured of. At first, it was an uncomfortable task for her, and Arthur knew that, even if she had never come right out and said it. Anne was going to be the Queen of England- six or so years ago, it would have been Mary.

Now, the women were as good as friends as anybody could have hoped for, and even if Katherine undoubtedly missed their daughter, she was doing all that she could to prepare Anne for the momentous undertaking that she would inherit once he passed. Arthur was aware of his own mortality- the disease that had stricken him when he was sixteen had left an unfading scar on his constitution, and it only got worse as he grew older. Even though he was only thirty-four, he was starting to sport signs of his aging (although, thankfully, his hair still retained its bright blonde color). He knew that Henry and Anne HAD to be ready within five years just in case, and he wanted to feel comfortable with what he left behind.

The country was strong; he had made sure of it. Now he just needed to make sure that its next monarchs would be able to maintain all that he had done to make it that way. Katherine was of the opinion that Anne would have some sort of influence over Henry, even if his pride refused to allow her to hold a more official role- like his own marriage to Katherine. But despite the threat of a mistress, Anne and Henry truly loved each other, and they were parents to two beautiful children. Anne held the trump card; and they both knew she would play it.

Anne would have to be just as ready as Henry.

"I don't know; tell her that we support her? We cannot stop him from taking a mistress, in theory, that is his right. We just have to reassure her that it will be temporary, once the child is born and Anne is back on her feet, Henry will forget that this girl even existed. That is all that we can do," Katherine suggested. "And you should talk to your mother. She clearly knows more about this than we do, and she is probably the only person Henry will listen to."

Whatever Arthur was going to say was lost when Maria opened the door. "Her grace would love to receive you both; she has just awoken from her nap and she apologizes for the wait," Maria reported.

"Thank you Maria. We shall walk unaccompanied- everyone is out with the hunting party in any case, so there shouldn't be any issues," Arthur proposed, offering his arm to his wife. He loved visiting Hampton; Henry always planned some sort of daily activity, leaving he and Katherine to finally have time to themselves, their own personal retreat. At first, he knew it bothered Katherine that everybody at Hampton treated Henry and Anne like their sovereigns already, but now, he was sure that she enjoyed their visits just as much as he did.

Once they reached Anne's rooms, her sister admitted them, and both of them did a quick scan of her ladies to search for a blonde girl with an open face. However, all of them kept their heads downcast out of respect; so they just continued walking until they reached Anne's bedchamber. After all, Jane Seymour wasn't really the problem.

"Your majesties!" Anne exclaimed, her face morphing into a pleasant, and what appeared to be a genuine smile. On further inspection though, both of them noticed it did not completely reach her eyes, and she looked very tired. Katherine felt her heart split into two; she felt so much pity for the woman whose luck she would have envied months before. Even if she never gave Arthur a son, at least she had never feared of losing him, or his love. It took her many years to realize it; but if she had to pick between his love or better success as Queen, she would pick his love, every time. God smiled down upon Arthur and her in many ways that other people would never understand.

"Please, just Katherine and Arthur. How are you, sister, and your child?" Arthur asked, kissing Anne's hand and taking the chair next to her. Katherine gave Anne a one-armed hug, full of warmth and love, before mirroring her husband.

"I'm sick often still, much more so than I was with Lisbeth and Edward. Certain foods upset me, and I'm hardly hungry, though Linacre insists I eat to keep my strength up. But as far as I know, the child is doing well. Linacre and the midwife in my household have assured me that he is strong and there will be no reason that he won't be born healthy. He kicks often," Anne confided, forcing a smile. The pregnancy had been miserable but she knew how much the two people with her had lost in childbed, so she tried to be sympathetic. And she knew how lucky she was to be alive; and how precious this baby's life was. When he kicked, her strength was renewed.

"And you are sure it's a boy?" Katherine asked, trying to smile, but feeling uncomfortable. She knew who had put this idea into Anne's head, and she could hit him at that very moment. Even if he was no longer a threat to her daughter's inheritance, Henry still bothered her. He should be grateful for all children, male or female, especially now that he had Edward, who was as healthy as any boy could be.

"I'm never sure. Girl or boy, I just want it to be healthy. Almost losing it was the scariest moment of my life," Anne confided. "But enough about that, tell me, how are things with you both? I was so happy when I heard you were coming to visit." She had welcomed any respite from the constant torment of thinking about Henry and Jane Seymour; especially when the hunting parties left and she knew that Jane and her family were always invited. She let some of her ladies accompany them, she didn't like that they had to be coped up with her; but she also had a few of them recruited to spy for her, loyal ladies who could be trusted with valuable information.

They informed her that Jane seemed all together clueless about Henry's intentions for her; but they also informed her (uncomfortably) that Henry was relentless in his pursuit. He was determined to have her in his bed, and Anne knew that he would stop at nothing to achieve it. It made it very difficult to be pleasant to him when he came to visit; and although Elizabeth and her children came as often as they could, her days were tedious and boring and filled with unpleasant thoughts about Henry and Jane.

She had no fear that Henry was going to leave her; they had two children and a third on the way, and their marriage was legitimate as one could be and she was popular now with the people of Hampton and surrounding areas thanks to her alms. The King and Queen and the Dowager Queen adored her and she had taken control of her deceased sister-in-law's children. Henry did still love her, she knew that, but it wasn't like before. He didn't just desire only her. She was fat and hideous and Jane was youthful and pretty. She was unmarried, came from a decent family, and from what Anne knew about her, didn't have the heart to say no. Henry wanted this; not his unpleasant pregnant and nagging wife.

The fact that she wasn't enough anymore hurt her more than she thought anything ever could.

"We are well, thank you," Arthur replied, not yet noticing the tears now streaming down Anne's face.

Katherine, however, did notice. "Anne, calm down. It's not good for the baby," Katherine soothed, rubbing her arm. "What's the matter?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Somehow, her mind began to wander about Jane and Henry, now surely hunting together without her. Combined with her difficult pregnancy, Katherine knew that Anne was in emotional turmoil. "It's Jane Seymour, isn't it?" she finally asked, when Anne's sobs became more audible, her suspicions were confirmed.

"Sweetheart, you need not worry about her. Once this baby is born, Henry will tire of her. We are sure of it," Arthur added, feeling uncomfortable with Anne's crying. He never liked the sound of a woman crying- Katherine had only cried in front of him twice since they had been married, and never as loudly or as passionately as Anne was.

"I know, that's not it. I just… I want him to love me as he used to. It's not my fault that I'm pregnant! I want this baby to be healthy, and I love him or her already, it's just not fair that my condition, that he so longed for, is causing me so much pain. I have to suffer, while he chases Jane Seymour around the woods, and ignores our children while he flirts with the wench!" Anne bitterly exclaimed. It felt good to confide it somebody, even if it was a bit inappropriate to do so in front of the King and Queen. Still, she knew that Katherine never liked Henry, and that Arthur probably was annoyed with his behavior.

"Focus on the child, not on him. Things will go back to normal. He loves you- trust me, he didn't even want to get married before he met you. Once your child is born, he will remember what it means to be a family, and how much he missed it. He is just having his last burst of youth, as some men often do. He will become committed to you again," Arthur explained, hoping to convince Anne as well as himself. He had hoped that Henry was only doing this because Anne's condition was boring to him and that because she couldn't be with him, that he had the right to take a mistress. Not because of some deeper need to be with a woman outside of his marriage because having a family reminded him that he wasn't as young as he used to be.

"Last burst of youth? I'm younger than he is!" Anne exclaimed, indigent that Henry thought he had more of a right to enjoy his youth instead of Anne. He was the one who wanted to marry her in the first place, he was the one who wanted a large family, and he was the one who wanted the responsibility as heir to the throne. Now that he had everything, he still wanted more. He still wanted to be the handsome, single young man that he was before he fell in love with her. He wanted to have both of his lives, while Anne had to focus on the one that was handed to her.

"Yes, but you are a mother and have taken a great deal of responsibility in the upbringing of your children. Regardless of everything that has happened, Henry is still a powerful man with a great deal of money, and he wants to enjoy his youth," Katherine explained. She was impressed at how mature Anne was, even if at the moment she could have been handling the Jane Seymour situation with a bit more grace. "The child is the most important thing, Anne. Not Henry or his need for diversions."

"What if he keeps a mistress even after I give birth? Am I supposed to just accept that this is my fate as a royal wife? I do not think I can tolerate sharing my husband's love, and I don't think my children could stand to lose their papa's attention," Anne questioned, wearing a wide-eyed expression of fear and doubt. Henry promised he would never hurt her…but he lied. He lied completely. Even if Jane was not sleeping with him yet, it would only be a matter of time.

"He won't, we promise," Arthur and Katherine soothed in unison; all the while hoping that they could believe their own reassurance.

* * *

Jane returned from hunting feeling extremely elated. Her two brothers and her father were all given positions in Henry's household, and she had been (grudgingly) dismissed from the Duchess' household for the rest of the day, which meant she was free to pay her respects to the King and Queen, who were in attendance at Hampton.

Now, more than ever, she was determined to secure a position in the Queen's household. She knew very well that she could not beg for a position; that would be unseemly and she would never ever be accepted. But she wanted to make herself known to Queen Katherine, because she was so sure that if she did, the Queen would like her. She was not witty and well-read like the other ladies in the Duchess' household, but she was good with needlework (something that was not done as often in the Duchess' household as in the Queen's). With preparations for the upcoming child occupying most of the ladies' time, at least needlework was used to sew little garments for the baby, but once it was over, it wouldn't be as much of a staple in her day as it was currently.

She wanted so badly to be a household that accepted her- since the Duchess took a random disliking to her, everyday spent in her rooms attending her was like agony. None of the other ladies showed even the slightest bit of curtsey towards her, they were all rather rude because they were clearly frightened that if they were friends with Jane than the Duchess would no longer favor them. In fact, it seemed like all of the other ladies in the household were at least liked by the Duchess. Jane was the only one who was called upon often to do the humbler tasks, and she was never allowed to serve any meals or even come close to the Duchess. She never helped her dress or bathe and she never delivered messages.

In short, she was exiled within the apartments as much as one could be.

Thank goodness that the Duke was so very kind to her! Perhaps knowing that his wife did not like her or her family, he had decided to show pity on them and favor them. Jane was always invited to go on the hunt, which the Duchess was forced to approve because the Duke wanted ladies to attend with him and his friends and courtiers. The Duke also singled her out for dancing if there was any to be had, and sometimes he even requested to walk alone with her in the gardens, with her male family members in respectable walking distance, of course. It was comforting to know that she had at least one friend at Hampton Court.

Even if she did enjoy the Duke's company though, she still wanted to leave Hampton and go to Whitehall. Other young ladies might scoff at the idea of servicing the Queen, but Jane had always admired her. She was dignified and would surely be nice to all of her ladies; unlike the Duchess who clearly had prejudged Jane to be some kind of country simpleton and therefore unworthy of her precious time and attention. She knew that her chances at finding a good husband went down at Whitehall, but she knew that Queen Katherine would help her find an acceptable suitor.

Queen Katherine's household was sure to be filled with solemn people and filled with religious observances. Although the Duchess' ran a pious household, nobody could match the daughter of the most Catholic monarchs of Spain. Some young women might have found that boring, but Jane found it to be exciting and far more fun than entertaining the Duchess' many witty friends and the young, vibrant courtiers at Hampton.

So she dressed herself in her finest gown and set off for the Queen's apartments, hoping that somehow, someway, the Queen would take her into her household, even if directly asking was out of the question. But if she made herself known to the Queen, and professed how much she admired her, perhaps she could convince her father to write to Queen Katherine and request a place in her household- and the Queen would remember her and her devotion.

She felt a nervous pit form in her stomach when the Queen's most loyal lady, Mistress Salinas, admitted her into the Queen's spacious apartments, but she knew she had to be brave if she wanted to escape her situation.

"Mistress Jane Seymour, your majesty, is here and requests an audience," Maria announced, fully knowing who Jane was and how Katherine felt about the whole thing. While she did not blame Jane for Anne's misfortunate, she was unlikely to be enthusiastic about greeting her- and the young girl was likely to be sent away without even catching a glimpse at the Queen.

Luckily for Jane, the Arthur was with Katherine. "You should see her, my love. She is clearly here for some sort of reason. Why waste her time?" Arthur rhetorically questioned. He was actually quite curious as to what the girl could possibly say, so he wanted Katherine to admit her, even though ultimately the decision was in her hands. "It may be entertaining to watch you chastise her, too, if that's what you're thinking," Arthur wryly commented. He knew he should feel pity, but he couldn't, not after seeing Anne so distressed.

"Fine, send her in," Katherine commanded, preparing herself to hear whatever she would have to say. She had no idea what made her think that it was a good idea to come see her, unless she thought that maybe she and Anne weren't as close as they were, and perhaps she could somehow find an escape from whatever Anne was doing to her. She knew that Anne was probably not kind to her, not as kind as she should be. Katherine thought it was foolish, but she tried to understand. The fault lied with Henry, not with Jane, at least not yet. "This should be good," she whispered under her breath to Arthur, who managed to smile and hold in his laughter.

"Your majesties," Jane greeted as soon as she walked into their presence chamber, sweeping into the lowest possible curtsy she could and keeping her eyes glued to the polished wood floor of the Queen's Hampton apartments. She couldn't afford to make one little mistake; she wanted them so badly to like her!

"Mistress Seymour, you may rise," Arthur announced, keeping his tone very solemn and professional, rare for him but absolutely necessary for this situation. He didn't want to give her the impression that they were okay with what Henry was doing to Anne. Even if she wasn't completely to blame (and even if she was not officially his mistress yet) they didn't want her to relay to Henry that the King and Queen approved of his sordid decision. For all he knew, Jane was the kindest person in the world, but she was now an attachment onto Henry, and until she detached herself, he couldn't show the same genial treatment towards her than he did with the rest of his loyal subjects.

"What is that you need, Mistress Seymour? The King and I are extremely busy," Katherine tiredly asked, looking as though she had little time for the blonde, innocent looking girl in front of her. All Katherine could see in her was another Bessie Blount; ultimately harmless, but capable of inflicting trouble while she was favored by her brother-in-law.

"Your majesty, I just came to present myself to you, and to inform you of my devotion towards you and of course, his majesty the King," Jane replied, feeling tension in the room, but she assumed it was because of the air of regality both Queen Katherine and King Arthur emitted. They were far more awe-inspiring than either the Duke of the Duchess could be. Jane had never felt so intimated in her life, and she wanted nothing more for them to break their royal trance and treat her like an actual person. She was sure she selected the correct words to show them her sincerity.

"Thank you, Mistress Seymour, for informing us of your clear respect towards the King and I. We pray that you continue to show yourself worthy of being a maid to our dear sister, the Duchess, and that you continue to conduct yourself with _virtue_ and _honor_," Katherine icily replied. She was not impressed with Jane, not at all. She was clearly going to give into to Henry's advances, and was coming here to seek their permission. Well, she certainly would not get it from her! Perhaps if Jane was the wife of a worthy gentleman, they could have been companions. But Katherine didn't want anything to do with a future royal mistress.

Jane didn't dare leave without being dismissed; both of them could tell , however, that she was confused and hurt by their attitude towards her and wanted nothing more than to run as fast as she could away from them. Katherine felt as though she had affectively made her point, and she didn't have to suffer any longer. "You may leave us now, Mistress Seymour, if that is all you have left to _profess_," Katherine said, the tone of dismissal now very clear in her voice.

"Thank you, your majesties," Jane timidly replied, backing out in a deep bow until she was far enough away to turn her back, and she ran, as gracefully as she could, out of their sight, clearly embarrassed and hurt.

"She really has no idea what Henry is trying to do, does she?" Arthur asked as soon as they were alone again. Jane was either a very convincing actress or completely clueless about Henry's desire for her. Perhaps they had been wrong all together, that Henry was not interested in taking a mistress, but he had to trust his mother. Anne's suspicions could be put down to a hysterical woman going through a difficult pregnancy, but his mother's were level-headed. Henry had shown clear favor towards this girl, with the probable intent of bedding her at some point in the future.

"It doesn't seem like it. Perhaps now somebody will have the decency to inform her, because she certainly picked up on my coldness," Katherine replied, sitting herself down on Arthur's knee and sighing. "Oh Arthur, thank you so much," she cried impulsively, throwing herself around his neck, just wanting to feel him- grateful for everything he was.

"For what?" he asked, enjoying the attention that Katherine was lavishing on him but unsure of what it was all about.

"For just being you- and for loving me without restraint. For never putting me through what Henry is doing to Anne. Thank you for being loyal and faithful and kind and understanding," Katherine explained. If her parents, all those years ago, had arranged her marriage to another prince, she certainly wouldn't have had the luck that she had now. She had failed to provide Arthur with an heir of his blood, but yet here they were, in love and together in the happiest marriage of any King and Queen they knew of. He allowed her to be who she was born to be- a Queen in more than just name only, and he loved her more for it.

She thanked God every night for sparing Arthur from the sweating sickness, because she would have dreaded being without him, and married to another man.

"Your very welcome my dear. I wouldn't have it any other way," he honestly confessed. He then pulled on her gown and brought her lips down to his. "I love you, my beautiful, gracious, and only Queen. I'm so glad God blessed you with everything that you are."

All Katherine could do was nod and pull her beloved husband in for another kiss, not daring to think about how different everything could have been.

* * *

Jane ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She just wanted to be alone, and she knew going back to the Duchess' rooms would not afford her a quiet place to cry and to be alone. Nor would her own chamber, since she did have to share it with somebody else who was likely to be unsympathic towards her. So she headed to where the rest of her family was staying, the only place that was likely to be quiet.

Unfortunately, Edward and her father were both there, and she could not escape their questioning. She cursed her bad luck- and the day had started off so well too!

"Janey, what on earth has happened?" her father asked, pulling her in for an embrace. She was grateful for his warm, encompassing arms, but she was all too aware of Edward's calculating stare, and was now sure that everybody was hiding something from her. There was no possible way that the Queen and the Duchess would take a random disliking to her- she had done nothing wrong! Surely, unknowingly, her presence was an insult and a disgrace to both of them. But she had not behaved without virtue; she had done everything her father instructed her to, which is what all good English girls are taught to do.

"The Queen does not like me. I went to see her for an audience and neither she nor the King seemed pleased that I had professed loyalty to them! Queen Katherine told me that she hoped I continued to behave virtuous and respectful- but she didn't seem to say it with the same kind of tone she says it to other ladies," Jane explained, pulling herself out of her father's arms and sitting on the foot of the bed, still ignoring Edward's appraising stare. She really didn't want to ask him why he was looking at her in such a strange manner, as if she could do something for him. She liked her brother, but he was so ambitious and she was so timid that they hardly conspired for anything together. Something was amiss.

"And how does the Duchess treat you?" her father asked, his eyes much kinder than Edward's yet there was something still in them, some kind of hope.

"Not very well. She gives me cold stares and won't let me near her or her children when they come to visit," Jane explained. She hoped that her father or brother could give her some kind of insight into what she had done to offend both the Duchess and the Queen, who seemed to both treat their other ladies with respect and courtesy. "I swear, if the Duke did not show me such kindness, this place would be totally and completely intolerable!"

Edward and her father both gave each other another look, and then Edward, finally, made a move to speak. "The Duchess and the Queen are not fond of you, sister, because the Duke favors you. That is why we have been appointed to so many positions; and it is why you yourself have become a lady to her grace," Edward explained tonelessly, yet Jane couldn't help but notice the slight smile that spread across his face, and it sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"Why would it bother the Duchess and the Queen if the Duke was kind to me? He is kind to a great many people," Jane replied, still not understanding. The Duke was a very genial man, and he had a great deal of friends. Certainly one more would not be of any sort of special concern to his wife or sister-in-law. The notion was absurd!

"Jane, he doesn't just want to be your friend. He hopes that soon you will consent to be his mistress. The Queen, the Dowager Queen, the Duchess, and I'm certain many of the Duchess' ladies are aware of his intention. You seem to be the only one who is not," Edward coldly explained, a bit annoyed with his sister's naivety, but still very glad that the Duke showed favor towards her. It would only enhance their fortune even more, and once the Duke succeeded his brother, and if Jane somehow managed to hold him for that long, they could rise even further. Even if it was just a temporary measure while the Duchess was pregnant, he could at least show the Duke that he was intelligent and worthy and could be a useful advisor someday. All he needed was more exposure, and Jane could do that for him.

"Father, certainly, you do not want me to sacrifice my maidenhead to the Duke? Even if he is powerful?!" Jane shrilly questioned, looking at her father with wide eyes. There was no way her gentle and loving father would want her to forsake her virtue just for the promise of more riches and titles. And if she became the Duke's mistress, the Duchess would have even more cause to be cruel to her! And how would she ever find a husband if she publically became the Duke of York's lover?

Sir John looked uncomfortably over at his son, hoping that he could break the news more gently. "The Duke has requested for your presence tonight in his private chambers. We want you to go to him; and allow him to take your maidenhead," Edward explained frankly. He didn't want Jane to ask any questions, he wanted her to be perfectly clear what they expected from her. Seeing that she was about to protest, Edward continued, "I know you may think it would make the Duchess more cruel, but by holding out, you will not gain any more favor from her. The seed of distrust as already been planted in her head; the idea of you makes her resent you. And if you do not give the Duke what he wants, you will lose his friendship too."

"And what about my marriage prospects?" Jane angrily asked. She could care less about the Duchess; all she was to her was a cruel mistress who she wished to escape. But the Duchess was also her gateway into a husband; sleeping with her beloved Duke would not help her at all in terms of that. Also, prematurely forfeiting her maidenhead would not attract many men; it would probably turn many away from her. She liked the Duke very much, and was not opposed to being his lover, but she could never be his wife, and she wanted to be somebody's wife, not just some discarded royal mistress.

Sir John was quick to answer this one, knowing that Edward would not be gentle with her. "Janey, this will only help them. The Duke is likely to be generous to you if you are generous to him and give him what he wants. Many good noblemen would be willing to look the other way if the Duke supplies you with a large enough dowry. Do not think that it is a bad thing, my dear. The Duke will enjoy your time together, you will enjoy it, and you will get a better husband than you could have before," Sir John explained. He would have been horrified about letting his daughter forfeit her virginity before she was married, but now, after Edward explained how much they could gain from the Duke, he knew that it would be a small sacrifice for the good of the family. Besides, Jane seemed smitten enough with him.

"I am fond of the Duke," Jane replied, beginning to warm up to the idea. He was likely to be gentle with her, like he was in all things. He was kindest man she knew (even kinder than her own father) and always called her sweetheart. He was handsome, charming, a wonderful dance partner, and was always willing to make conversation about any topic imaginable, even if Jane was not very good at conversing. And such a man, such a cultured and handsome man, desired her, little Jane Seymour from the country! How could she say no- especially if it would help her?

She knew that she should feel pity for the Duchess; but she couldn't. The Duchess had not even given her a chance, she had assumed that Jane was going to sleep with her husband, and was treating as if she already had. It would do her no worse to actually carry out what everybody already assumed she had done. She wanted to be above virtue and petty gossip- but she did desire the Duke. Besides, she might even gain his full protection as his mistress from his wife's cruelness, and maybe she could marry somebody just as rich and handsome as he.

"So you will do it, willingly?" Edward asked, allowing a hint of excitement and anticipation to build in his voice. Jane's naïve sacrifice would do so much for their family- and for him. He was so glad that she wasn't going to act stupidly for the sake of some pretended virtue. Jane was innocent and was raised to be virtuous, but the world stepped all over people who clung to virtue and principle. If they wanted to make it anywhere, Jane would have to get her hands dirty.

Jane didn't even need to think about it anymore, her mind was now set. "Have somebody help me prepare for tonight. I want to look my best for his grace."

* * *

He had misgivings at first.

Jane was not his wife; she was in fact, nothing like his wife. She was pretty and had an open personality, everything that she kept inside of her would soon worm its way out. Anne was also very pretty- but not in the traditional sense. She was dark and alluring, seductive and mysterious. Her intelligence and enigmatic personality was what first attracted Henry to her- and he would not doubt that it was what kept him in love with her. Anne was truly the love of his life, and always would be.

But she was not able to be with him fully. He had desires that needed to be fulfilled, and Jane was there. Jane was innocent in a world that corrupted every soul, she was light in his now nights of darkness. Anne was propped in bed all day in a darkened room heavy with their child that had almost killed her. He had full intentions of staying faithful to her, to alleviate her worries as she struggled through a difficult pregnancy. But he just simply could not do it. She was his Anne for an hour out of the day, but all of her strength was sapped after that- the baby was sucking it all out of her.

How could anybody expect him to stay true and faithful to a woman who slept or was miserable the whole entire day?

Arthur would expect him to do what he and his father had done to both of their wives- especially since both of their marriages were arranged and he had chosen Anne. His father and his brother had waited patiently for their wives to deliver their children, never even taking a second look at another woman. His father did it because he didn't want to risk being taken over by another woman (Henry also seriously doubted his father had any sort of sexual attraction towards any woman) and he also wanted his Queen to never miscarry or threaten the lives of any of their children. Arthur did it simply because his love for Katherine overtook all other thoughts.

Henry had never had a problem before with other women. Anne was always the only woman he had eyes for- even when they were celibate he didn't even feel any leaning towards women. Anne had captivated him and had certainly been enough for him. Lisbeth and Edward's births were easy for him- they were not dangerous and Anne was glowing when she was with them. Now, her life was grey and she was heavy and morose. Her room often reeked of vomit and her hair had lost the shine that it once had. He was sure that after Anne gave birth to their son and recovered- she would be as beautiful and captivating as she was before. To suggest otherwise was to suggest that the sun would allow the moon to eclipse it forever.

But for some reason, he needed Jane to be his mistress. He needed somebody to keep him company physically while his wife was unable to. He needed a woman to listen to his every word and treat him as if he was the most wonderful thing on earth. Jane did so sincerely, she was honored and awed by the attention he showered on her. When he first met Jane at her family's estate, he felt a stirring that he had not felt in a long time- since Anne became pregnant with this child. Jane was new and fresh and he needed to feel that spark of livelihood again.

He knew he was hurting Anne. He couldn't pretend that she didn't know his intentions. His mother would be disappointed. His brother would try and stop him. But he didn't care, even if he should have. He wanted Jane- and he was sick of being denied the things he wanted.

"Your grace," Jane greeted, pulling him from his thoughts. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw her- a vision with her blonde flaxen hair, her sheer white gown and her wide blue eyes. He could also tell that she was frightened, and it reminded him of a night, a long time ago, with Bessie Blount. She had shaken when he first touched her neck, and cried out when he stole her maidenhead. But she enjoyed it- and Henry was sure that Jane would too. However, he knew that she was scared and he would take it slow, even as he was burning with passion. She was truly a maid, and it endeared her to him even more.

"Are you ready, my dear?" he asked before kissing her- having too much respect to betray her wishes, yet he already knew what the answer would be. But his pride would not allow him to forgo asking completely; and he wanted to hear her voice, he wanted to hear it shake with desire and nerves.

"Yes, your grace," she replied just as he predicted she would, and like always, that was all the invitation he needed before diving in, ignoring the thought of Anne weeping alone in a darkened room with only their kicking unborn child to keep her company during her lonely night.

He was far too gone for that thought to bother him.

_Wow! Such a long time for me to get around to writing this and it only ended up taking a few days. I'm so glad to finally have moved to the plot forward. I'm not sure what's going to happen next, but next chapter will probably have the birth of baby number three. I really hope everybody enjoyed this chapter, and please, don't forget to review! :) Until next time…_


	39. Chapter Thirty Nine

**Author's Note: **I'm SO sorry for the lag in this update. Life has been crazy. I will be done with this story in late August though, so updates will be coming more quickly. I say that every time, but it's definitely true now. I want to be done with this story before I start college. So, route usual, thank you to everyone who has continued to read and review this story, especially as we come towards the end. The amount of support is incredible. I cannot thank you all enough.

_Disclaimer: _All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events and are taken only for the purposes of the story. It's very AU. All recognizable characters are a property of Showtime and history. I don't write history, I just mess around with it ;]

Without further ado, chapter thirty-nine of King Arthur II! I hope you all enjoy and review :)

* * *

**Hampton Court**

_September 5, 1529_

Elizabeth of York was not surprised by much in her old age. She had lived through too much for life's small mishaps to disturb her.

She was a child of war, after all. Her uncle had sabotaged her whole entire family, killed her two brothers, thus breaking her mother's heart. They had been isolated in the Tower of London while Richard usurped her brother's throne. She then became the pawn between her vengeful mother and the calculating Margaret Beaufort. She married a man who had a tenuous claim on the English throne and then was shut away for years, producing heirs to the throne of yet another dynasty. She was abused by Margaret and kept away from her children- and she had lost her voice for so many years. Perhaps she had loved Henry, once. But that was a long time ago. The only people she loved now were her children and grandchildren.

And she had lost them, too. First it was little Mary, her first grandchild and the apple of her parents' eye. She had loved Mary so much, and it broke her heart to see her die, to watch her son and her daughter-in-law mourn. Then there was her daughter Mary, the girl that she had the biggest part in raising out of any of her children, who first betrayed her own royal blood by marrying a man unworthy of her love (although, Elizabeth had to admit, now that Brandon took responsibility for his children, that she was warming up to him) and then died in childbirth. And in the early years of her marriage, there were three others. Edmund and Elizabeth were actually born as sweet, beautiful children, who would have grown up to be as wonderful as their live siblings. Then there was the unknown girl, who she had miscarried. And Margaret was gone far away to Scotland, probably never to see English soil again.

She had seen so much, she had lived through so many Kings and Queens, an evil mother-in-law, a cold husband, dead children, a civil war and all the while being the pillar for her children (and Katherine and Anne) to lean on.

So many events had lost shock value to her.

Even so, when Anne had told her to keep an eye out for Jane Seymour, to watch for any signs of a relationship brewing between Henry and her, she had not been expecting Anne's suspicions to be correct. It was even sufficient enough to make her feel shock, for the first time in a long time. She had thought Anne was being hysterical, misconstruing Henry's intentions towards one of her ladies-in-waiting as a result of a very difficult pregnancy. But she had kept looking out for signs, just to be safe.

She had seen with her own eyes that her Harry had taken Jane as a mistress. Well, not directly, but she had seen enough. Jane and Henry were constantly riding out during the day, and recently, they had started doing it alone. She had also seen them arm and arm in the garden, and once she had seen them exchange more than just friendly embraces and friendly kisses. And at night, they were often dance partners. She was not so invasive as to follow Henry to his bedchamber, but she did see them leave together. It was as if her son had become shameless.

What had truly shocked her, though, was that Henry was doing it in sight of his whole entire court, and was doing it to Anne. Anne, who had loved so dearly, who he had forsaken his bachelor life in order to marry. Elizabeth had always thought that their marriage was as honest and wonderful as Katherine and Arthur's. And before Henry had married, he had often kept his mistresses a secret for as long as possible, not being so brazen to flaunt his intentions and lusts so publically. Especially while his wife's family was at court- as well as his own!

It was the first time in her life that she was actually disappointed in Henry.

She knew she had to see him, to try and talk him out of his folly. He had always respected her opinions before, and listened to her as much as he possibly could. She knew he was a man, with natural appetites, and that Anne's pregnancy had made her miserable and not very desirable, but that was still not excuse to cause his poor wife more heartache than she was already going through. Anne was on bed rest because his child was causing her pain, and she deserved to have a faithful husband who would be there for her.

It was a custom for powerful men to take mistresses when their wives were heavy with child. It had become a strategy and art form for some families, who had no problems shoving their daughters in front of the noses of willing men with good blood and lots of money, in hopes of reaping some benefit from it. She had no doubt that Jane's brothers were now in Henry's inner-circle due to their sister's sacrifice. It was the plight of women to be used by their families, and the Seymours were just another family vying for royal favor in a less than honest way. Elizabeth was just upset that Henry fell for it.

Even if Jane herself was interested in Henry, he was still being used by her family in order to gain favor. Her husband and Arthur had never allowed themselves to be undermined by a mistress' family because they had stayed faithful to their wives. Of course, Arthur had stayed faithful to Katherine because he loved and respected her; and Elizabeth had hoped it would go the same with Henry. Anne had given him everything he ever wanted, but yet he could still not be content with his family and with his wife. He had what so many, including his older brother, would have killed for. She hated seeing him throw it all way on a blonde simpleton and her scheming family.

So she walked down to her son's room that morning with a purpose in her gait. She was not going to allow her son to make a huge mistake and ruin the love between he and Anne. She didn't think it was possible for her to be shocked by her son's actions any more than she had already been, so she intended to be firm.

"Mother!" Henry greeted her warmly when she walked through his door, and she was about to return his kiss until she saw Jane, behind Henry, hair disheveled. At least she had the decency to look ashamed, unlike Henry, who acted as if her presence was nothing out of the ordinary. "May I present you to Mistress Seymour?" he asked, clearly thinking that any friend of his would be a friend of his mother's. It had always been that way.

"No you may not," Elizabeth sharply retorted, looking at Henry, not at Jane, with contempt. She knew nothing about Jane, only that she was sleeping with a married man. It was likely it was her family's idea, and for that reason, she didn't want to include Jane in her chiding. She didn't want to give her approval, and she didn't want Jane to hear what she was going to say. "Mistress Seymour may show herself out, though," she added in an afterthought, sparing Jane a small smile as she passed out of the door. She knew that Katherine had already made it clear about their disapproval; Jane probably didn't need to be reminded again. She felt a measure of sympathy; she hadn't hardened herself that much yet.

"Mother, that was very rude. She is a very special friend of mine, and does not have many friends at court. I was hoping you would be kinder towards her, since Katherine and Anne have done nothing to say to her but cruel and unnecessary things," Henry complained. He thought it was so inexcusable the way that Katherine had so rudely dismissed Jane from her presence, but there wasn't much he could do about that. She was the Queen of England, and he did not feel like getting rebuffed by her for the umpteenth time in his life for overstepping his bounds as the Duke of York. But he did say something to Anne about her treatment of Jane, and as he expected, it did not go smoothly.

_She often looked like this after she had woken up; it was Henry's favorite time to visit her. As soon as the light hit her windows, and she had eaten her breakfast, Henry saw glimpses of the woman who used to captivate him so wildly. She had brightness in her skin and in her voice that reminded Henry of a time before this baby had sucked the energy out of her. But she would only be like that for an hour, maybe two if it was a good day. So as much as he wanted to enjoy her mood, he had to discuss his predicament with Jane. "Anne, sweetheart, we need to talk," he began after he questioned her about the baby's and her own health. _

_Anne sat up, listening intently. She wordlessly nodded. "I have received complaints from the Seymour family about the way that their daughter, Jane, is being treated in your household. Apparently one your ladies struck her, and you did nothing about it," Henry explained as gently as he could. Usually he stayed out of the business of his wife's household, but in this case, physically violence could not be excused. Even if Jane was exaggerating about the extent of the blow, Henry did not doubt it happened. _

"_Mistress Seymour was not struck in my household. I do not condone such behavior, and I certainly would not have allowed it to go unnoticed," Anne replied, tensely and truthfully. Even if she did not like Jane, and knew what she was up to, she would have never allowed one of her ladies to strike another. It wasn't the type of household she ran, or ever wanted to run. Even if she was sharp with her words towards Jane, she didn't like the idea of having violence in her household. She felt anger bubble up inside of her- towards Jane, her family, and Henry for believing her. "How dare you think that I could do such a thing?" _

"_Anne, you have never been kind towards her…" Henry began, but he was cut off. _

"_You believe her over me? I'm your wife, not some little slut you take to bed with you whenever you feel like it! I love you, Henry, she doesn't! She is using you to gain favor for her brothers and father, why can't you see that? And why can't you see how much this is hurting me, your wife, the mother of your children?" Anne exploded, no longer able to keep her outward charade for any longer. She wanted Henry to know how she felt. _

"_That's not true, Anne. Jane is not my mistress, she is far too virtuous for such a thing. I just know her father very well, and wanted to make sure she was well treated, as befits a woman of her birth. I know that you do not give her the same treatment as your ladies, and if it because of this accusation…" once again, Anne cut him off, mid-lie. _

"_It's not an accusation if it's true, Henry! I know what you are doing, since you do nothing to hide it! Just because I'm in here doesn't mean I don't know what you are doing. I know where you go after supper, and you don't go there alone! And your hunting parties aren't so exclusive anymore- I know that you take her away to some house in the woods and have your way with her and you think that I don't know!" Anne shrilly exclaimed. She felt her breathing get shallow and she began to worry for her child. _

"_I will speak to you when you have calmed down. This yelling and arguing is not good for the baby," Henry said, awkwardly patting her shoulder and praying that her breathing returned to normal. He should have waited, but he didn't want Jane to continue to be abused. He wanted her to feel safe at his court so she wouldn't be unhappy, but now he feared he had overworked Anne. _

"_Henry, please, stop. Don't keep doing this to me, to your children. I love you, and I don't want to worry about where you are. Please, don't forsake me for her," Anne pleaded, looking up at him with hurt shining in her eyes. When he did not answer, she turned desperate, even if she hated herself for it, "Once this baby is born I will be back to normal and you will leave her right? I will be able to be your wife and you won't need a mistress. Please swear that in a few months this will be over, and we can be as we were. Please, swear to me now." _

"_I'll be by tomorrow when you are feeling better. Please, make an effort to treat your ladies with more consideration in the future, especially those daughters and wives of men who support us. Good day, madam," Henry coldly said, not granting her the answer she desired. He knew that she knew, but he hoped that his cold rebuff of her suggestion would make her treat Jane better. Jane was his friend and his mistress and was good to him and he didn't want to see her suffer any longer. And Anne was his wife and it was her job to give birth to his children and to turn a blind eye to his mistress. _

_Even if he was affected by Anne's pleas and tears, he had to be strong. It was his right to have Jane, and he would keep her. _

Henry was pulled out of his unpleasant flashback by his mother's stern voice, the sternest he had ever heard it directed towards him. "You may lie all you wish to Anne, but I know better. Katherine and Anne also know better too, and they know that Jane is more than just your friend, Harry," Elizabeth accused. Henry was no dullard, her husband and his mother made sure that he had the best tutors that money could buy, well second best, after Arthur's. Henry was given everything a child needed to thrive as an intelligent adult- yet Elizabeth couldn't believe how foolishly he was acting in denying his relations with Jane. It was not promising behavior for a future King of England.

"So what if she is? I have every right to take a mistress while my wife is pregnant, mother; you know that just as well as I do," Henry defended. He knew that denials would do him no good, not with his mother. He just hoped that she would understand that he wasn't doing it to punish Anne or out of malice towards her. He just wanted to enjoy his rights as a man with a beautiful and willingly woman who wouldn't issue stern warnings towards him like the rest of the women in his life. Jane always admired him and never contradicted or yelled at him. She was in every way the perfect foil to Anne. He loved Anne, but sometimes he felt like he needed a break from her. This was his break. He would go back to her.

"Henry, having a mistress undermines your position and causes unnecessary stress towards the child your wife is carrying. Your father and your brother both never saw the need to take another woman to bed except for their wives," Elizabeth calmly chided. She hoped that Henry would see the error in his ways and go back to his wife. After all, he had always listened to her in the past. She would be most displeased, more disappointed, and more shocked than she already was if he rebuffed her.

"Mother, I'm sorry, this is none of your business. I admire and respect you and your opinions, but this is my life. I am not little anymore, I am heir to the throne and I have my own court now. What Arthur and father did have no affect on me, I am my own person. You always liked that about me," Henry pompously stated. He would stand strong against his mother; even if in the past he had always obeyed her. But now, he was the future King of England. He had power of his own, a cloud of influence that he had created at Hampton Court. He didn't need his mother to protect him from his grandmother or his second-son situation anymore.

"Harry, I love you, but I cannot approve of this. Even if I don't think you need to do this from a personal standpoint- at least look at it from a practical one. Jane and her family simply want to enjoy your favor, and they are setting a precedent. Other men will try and shove their daughters under your nose to do the same thing. It's a vicious cycle that will never end!" Elizabeth gently explained, even if she did allow a bit of vigor to enter her voice.

There was another danger that she felt uncomfortable voicing to Henry, not while he was still in the early days of his sordid affair: the possibility of another illegitimate child. Elizabeth was aware that Kings had illegitimate children, bastards that they shielded away from the court, sent far away and never treated the same as other children. They were usually well-provided for but never members of the royal family. Elizabeth knew how lucky Henry had gotten with Hal, that he had him before he was married to Anne and so Anne accepted the motherless boy when she was still young and naïve. Hal was so lucky to have Anne in his life, and to be raised alongside the rest of his siblings- not hidden away like some shameful secret. Elizabeth could not imagine what that would do to a child, and was glad that her grandson never had to go through that.

Well, not to that extent at least. Hal was aware, after Edward was born, that he was not the same as his siblings. Anne was not truly his mother, and so when Henry became King, he would not be a Prince like his brother would be. Hal would still have a family that loved him, and for that he was lucky. But the pain Hal would continue to experience could never be helped; he simply did not have the same status as his half-siblings.

If Hal was one of the lucky ones, what would happen to Jane's child?

Elizabeth didn't like the idea of having yet another illegitimate child in their family, even if it was a custom in some royal houses, the Tudors had not had any until Henry had a pre-marital affair. Hal was not a liability though; Jane's child would be. He would have be to hid away in the country or he would have to stay with his male relatives, Elizabeth did not imagine that Anne would welcome any child of Jane's into the nursery with Lisbeth, Edward, Hal, and the Brandon children. It broke Elizabeth's heart to think that any of Henry's children would have to be sent far away from her, farther Hal used to be at Eltham. She wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Instead of voicing all this to Henry, in fears it would overwhelm or discredit some of her other arguments, she went another route. "And what of Mistress Seymour?" her question seemed to get Henry's attention, so she continued, "Will you provide for her after you are done with her? Will you pay the money to get her a good husband, one who would look the other way knowing that her past was not clear? What of her, Henry, if you love her as you claim?"

"Jane will be well provided for, just like Bessie was. Like I said, mother, this does not concern you. I am in charge of my own life," Henry stated yet again, not allowing any of his inner guilt to be let lose. He knew what he was doing to Jane, how difficult it would be for her to get a husband if he didn't provide compensation, and he knew that Jane was too naïve to understand the implications. He also didn't like to speak to his mother so off-handily, but it had to be done. He had freed himself from Arthur; he wouldn't let his mother tie him down as well.

"Harry…" Elizabeth began again, but she was cut off.

"Mother, I fear I have developed a headache. I will see you some other time, perhaps we could dine and discuss more pleasant topics tonight?" Henry suggested, though he coached it as an offer, his tone of voice betrayed a command.

"I believe I'll be visiting Whitehall for a few days. I haven't seen Arthur in ages," Elizabeth responded. She couldn't bear the thought of being here and watching Jane and Henry engage in some sordid love affair. She would back in time for the birth of Anne's child, but hopefully not too much before. She didn't like her son's court any longer, and the thought of being in place with a loving couple was much more refreshing. Hopefully, after Anne's child was born, she could be here again without feeling ill. But if Henry was going to keep Jane, then he was going to lose his mother's company.

"You are leaving? But you never leave for more than a day?" Henry questioned, the hurt clear in his voice. His mother never left him for Arthur.

"I'm sorry Harry. You've disappointed me too much," Elizabeth stated, kissing his forehead and then sinking down into a curtsey. She had been with him ever since he received Hampton Court, and she made a mental note to tell Anne of her plans before she left, but she felt as though she had done her duty towards Henry and there was nothing left to say until her advice was adhered to. She wouldn't go to the measures of Margaret Beaufort, but she was still his mother, who had always listened to in the past. She averted her eyes as she walked out of the door, and then there it was, shock. Shock at herself for leaving. Shock at the actions of her son. Shock at his next words.

"Mother, come back! I order you to come back! I am the Duke of York you cannot walk away from me! Mother! I will not leave her! Mother! I command you to stay at Hampton! Mother, please, come back!"

She didn't look back. She had spent her whole life being ordered around, and she was done with it. She made no exceptions: not even for her favorite son.

* * *

"How many more weeks until you are due, Anne?" Elizabeth questioned, dressed in her traveling clothes, ready to leave. She couldn't leave without saying goodbye to Anne, and she longed to stay to be there for her, but she had to show Henry that his actions did not merit her approval. She had tried everything she knew; there was no more fight in her.

"Linacre told me at least three weeks. Must you leave?" Anne questioned, tears in her eyes. Elizabeth had always been there for her, she couldn't bear the thought of her leaving for such a long time.

"I will be back before you give birth, don't you worry. I just need to be away from here for a while. Henry will learn that his actions have been wrong, and after you give birth, he will be sworn off that woman forever. I think that I showed him my disapproval, Katherine has, Arthur has, and you have. He will be done with her soon," Elizabeth promised, giving Anne a warm smile. She didn't wholly believe her words, but she knew that Anne needed to.

"I love you mother," Anne said, wrapping her arms around Elizabeth. "Thank you for everything."

"Take care of yourself, my dear." She felt badly about leaving Anne, but now she was even clearer on her path. She had Anne's blessing. They would stop his affair. They just had to.

* * *

_Three Weeks Later_

"She has been in labor for a near two days now. Something is desperately wrong," Henry panicked to anybody who would listen as they waited in his chambers, which were adjacent to a gallery that connected to Anne's. Anne was still screaming, she was still alive, but he wasn't sure if the child would be. And if he was, he didn't want to have to make that awful decision between Anne and his unborn child. He didn't think he was strong enough to answer that question. He longed for more children but he didn't think he could live without Anne- even if the past weeks had been a tense standoff due to his affair with Jane.

His mother had returned on the condition that after the child was born and Anne was churched, that he would leave Jane, now that Anne would be able to be a full wife to him once again. He had agreed, with trepidation, but he had to agree. He couldn't live without his mother at court; it was so odd having her at Whitehall with Arthur. It was as if he was little again, and Arthur was the golden son, who could do no wrong in anybody's eyes. If getting rid of Jane would make his mother look at him the way she used to, before she found out about his affair, then he would do it. Besides, Jane was just a physical release, Anne was his wife and he did love her. He didn't think that he could ever love Jane, though he did care for her and he would provide well for her once he ended it. Henry thought he would even miss her. But once Anne was back in full health and able to be with him again there was no need for Jane.

That is, if Anne made it through this alive.

"Where is Linacre? He was supposed to have news," Arthur questioned. He was worried about Anne; he knew that this pregnancy had been difficult for her, and that she was looking forward to it being over. Edward and Lisbeth had been born so quickly that he and Katherine often didn't even bother coming to Hampton until they received the message that their child had been born.

However, this time, they received the message that Anne was having an extremely taxing labor, and Katherine insisted on getting to Hampton as soon as possible, so she could be there for her. As soon as they arrived, Katherine was whisked into Anne's bedchamber by his mother- while he, Henry, Brandon, George and Thomas Boleyn had to content themselves with anxiously waiting while Katherine, Elizabeth and Mary Carey provide more immediate support. Since they had been there, it had been a melee of screaming and ladies rushing in and out of Anne's chamber with blood-stained linens. Henry, naturally, was as nervous as Arthur had ever seen him.

As if on cue, Linacre emerged with blood-stained hands. He looked uncomfortable, but at the sight of Henry's nervous and angry expression, he sputtered, "The Duchess has been passing in and out of consciousness for the past five hours. We have been able to revive her each time but she has lost an abnormal amount of blood. I fear for her grace's life if this childbirth continues much longer. Your grace may have decide between the life of the mother or of the child within in the next few hours if this continues," Linacre solemnly explained, bowing once more to Henry and excusing himself to go back into the birthing chamber.

Henry walked back to the corner of the room and sunk deep into a chair, motioning for Brandon to come over to him, pointedly ignoring the nervous stares George was shooting him. Henry knew how much George loved his sister; even if her father would rather see their family prosper with another future Prince, George would want his sister to survive. He hated that he had to make this decision. "I don't know what to say to that," he whispered after a few moments. "I love them both."

Brandon already knew the correct response; he didn't even have to think about it. "Now that I know my daughter, I would never have traded her in for anything. But if I had to choose in that moment, without knowing how beautiful Frances would become, and how much I'd come to love her, I would have chosen to save Mary if she could have been saved. You only get once chance to love, Henry. I know you love your children but if you choose to save that baby, you don't know how long they will survive. Anne is healthy; she will have many years ahead of her. Don't make the wrong decision," Brandon explained, clasping Henry's shoulder. He liked to believe that he would have saved Mary's life in exchange for knowing Frances. Every day he missed her more than the day before. Henry would be miserable without Anne, even if at the moment he was sleeping with Jane Seymour. Brandon would give anything to have Mary back, in his arms, and in love with him again.

"But my son…" Henry trailed. He looked at Brandon, he saw the pain in his eyes, and he knew how much he missed having Mary. He thought of his wedding day, his beautiful wife, the way that she smiled at him only the way she could. But then he thought of if he had never known Edward, Hal, or Lisbeth. He loved them more than he thought he could love such small things. He loved them the minute he laid eyes on them. How could he kill his own child?

"Then I'll pray that it won't have to come to that," Brandon solemnly stated, excusing himself and walking back over to the rest of the waiting men. Henry stayed back for a few more moments.

He knew that Anne would want their child to live. And in the end it came down to her, either way. If he had to choose between Anne and their child, he knew he would pick their child. He couldn't stand by and allow a child of his flesh and blood to be killed. At the thought of a life without Anne, he broke down and cried, but he knew he had made the right decision. Their child needed to live.

He waited, with baited breath, for Linacre to come out and ask him if he would give his permission to have Anne's belly cut open to free their child. He continued to listen to her screams, and he imagined how he would respond. He imagined how empty the room would feel once Linacre cut her open. He imagined the screams of their child overpowering the sound of Anne's sister and brother mourning. He imagined how disappointed his mother would be- but how she would love her new grandchild either way. He imagined the christening without Anne. He imagined Anne's funeral. He imagined being crowned King without her by his side. He imagined having to tell his children that their mother was dead. He imagined having to remarry one of Katherine's Spanish nieces. He imagined his life with a new child and without Anne.

Henry had never cursed his life more than he did in those moments.

Henry spent the next two hours imagining what he was going to do once Linacre emerged. But he never did. Anne continued to scream without once dying down. Henry didn't allow himself to feel hopeful like the rest of the men were doing; he was too stuck in this alternate world without Anne. Without having Anne with him at all times. He knew that life was precious, especially the life of a woman who was giving birth, but he never expected that Anne would have trouble in childbed. Their other two children were born so soundly and easily, he always thought that they would have many more years together with their ever-growing family. He never thought it would come to this.

When Linacre emerged, Henry didn't even notice that Anne's screaming had been replaced by the screams of a newborn. He was still inside of his own head too much to notice. He jumped up and before he could speak, he was overcome by sobs. He didn't even care that it made him look weak; he had been awake for far too long and gone through so much to even think about pride. He even allowed Arthur to grasp his shoulder as they waited for Linacre to speak.

"Her grace has given birth to a son. Though he was weak at first, his cries are now strong. The midwives and I both believe he is perfectly healthy," Linacre explained.

"And Anne? What of my wife?" Henry didn't even allow himself to feel relief. Had God prematurely taken Anne away from him? Were his thoughts his consent to the Lord, and so He had taken the liberty of calling Anne from this earth? He didn't hear her crying. "Oh God, she has died, hasn't she?"

"The Duchess is alive, your grace. She lost consciousness after the baby was born but her breathing is regular. She has lost a lot of blood, but I do think that she will survive. She has come this far already," Linacre explained tiredly, exhausted from this childbirth and relieved that he was able to finally deliver a piece of good news. "You may go and see her, if you wish, but please, only one at a time."

"Thank you, Dr. Linacre, for caring for my wife and child so well," Henry professed, dismissing Linacre with a wave of his hand, knowing how tired the poor man must have been. He then steeled himself to witness the post-war scene unfolding in Anne's birthing chamber. Men weren't supposed to witness the mysteries of childbirth; but Henry felt too overwhelmed to wait until Anne was revived and cleaned up. He had to see his wife, and their new son.

Even so, he wasn't prepared for what he saw. There was blood, everywhere. Anne was still in a bloody nightgown, his mother had blood on her chest, Katherine and Mary Carey looked like they had lived through years of intense hardship and pain. All four ladies had deep black groves underneath their eyes, and the three that were still awake looked like they longed for a bed. And all of Anne's ladies were disheveled looking, including his Jane, who he offered a small smile, even if he felt so exhausted emotionally. For her part, she squeezed his hand as he walked by and slipped a chaste kiss to his cheek and then continued to wash the many bloodied linens Anne had used.

"Mother, Mistress Carey, your majesty," Henry greeted, giving Elizabeth and Katherine a slight bow and Anne's sister a small smile as she dropped down into a curtsey- all three of them clearly startled by his sudden appearance in such a bloody mess. "Thank you so much for taking care of Anne." For Mary and his mother, this was no problem to profess- for Katherine, he felt strange thanking her, but she had done just as much to comfort his wife as she struggled to bring their son into the world. Even he could feel grateful towards her.

"Your son is beautiful, Harry. And Anne did so well," Elizabeth said, her voice just as tired as her body.

"Thank you," Henry choked. He kissed his mother's hand and felt tears well in his eyes to match hers. He walked over to the small bassinette his son was in and felt his heart burst as he picked him up. As he looked over to the bed, even if Anne looked dead, the steady movements of her chest assured him otherwise, he knew that he was so lucky. Brandon had lost his wife in exchange for a daughter. Arthur had lost countless children in exchange for his wife. But he had Anne and this new baby, and both of them, even if they were weak right now, would become healthy. He was so sure of it.

Henry gingerly kissed the top of his son's head. "God bless you child," he whispered in awe. "Ladies, if you could please excuse me, I would like some time alone with the Duchess, and I am sure you are longing for some rest," Henry dismissed, giving all three of them a weak smile as they trailed off. Even if he didn't have the power to dismiss Katherine, even she swallowed her pride and left, desperate to get back to her husband, grateful that she was never put through the ordeal that Anne had been subjected to.

Henry placed his son back in his bed and watched his chest steadily move in and out, scared that if he looked away his son's grip on life would fade. But it didn't. For at least one hour, blissfully unaware of the other ladies bustling around to clean up the disaster that had become Anne's chamber, he watched his new child breathe. He was so grateful for this boy, who had survived against the odds and the hardships that had befallen him. He had another son. And Anne had given to him.

He moved over to Anne's side and grabbed her hand gingerly. He sat there for two hours, allowing his thoughts that he had gathered about losing her evaporate for two hours. He didn't even notice when Anne stirred. "Henry, the baby, how is the baby?" Anne asked, and although her voice was tired and raspy from her ordeal, it was also infused with panic.

Henry didn't even answer, he just walked over to where their new son was sleeping and picked him up and set him in his mother's arms. "Our son is perfectly healthy. You did so well, Anne, I'm so proud of you," Henry cooed, his tears all dried up he was able to be strong for his wife in her moment of need. He kissed her forehead and rubbed the baby's soft head. "Isn't he perfect?"

Anne wordlessly nodded, allowing all of the stress from the past months to leave her. When she held her son, it was the first time that she stopped thinking about Jane and Henry together. She stopped worrying about if she would resent the child for all of the hardship she had been through, but all she felt in those moments was complete love, just like with her other two children. It was the first time in a long time that she felt that Henry was completely and totally hers- and she knew that she would eventually get their family back. "Hello, you beautiful blessed child. What did you name him, Henry?" Anne questioned. She imagined that she had been asleep for a long time, and that Henry would have taken it upon himself to name him.

"I haven't named him yet. I have been waiting for you to wake up," Henry explained. He stared back down at his son and his mind stopped working for the first time that day. He had no idea what to name the child in front of him. "Something neutral this time, no family names or anything like that. This child is special so he should have a special name."

"How about William? It's an old English name but nobody in either of our immediate families has it," Anne offered, thinking that her son looked like a William. She thought that Lisbeth, Hal and Edward would love to have a brother named William. She thought for the next Duke of York, a future prince of England, that William would be a regal and noble name. William. Her son. The perfect child.

"William it is then. I will arrange the christening for when you are better, my love. I don't want you to overexert yourself. You have been through so much in these past months and I want to make sure that you are well before we have his christening," Henry explained, kissing Anne for longer than he had in a long time. He was never so in love with her than at that moment. Jane was the furthest thing from his mind, at least for the moment. In a few days he would have deal with that and with his mother, but for now, he was content to be with Anne and their new son, William.

"Godparents?" Anne asked, but Henry put a finger to her lips.

"We will deal with all of that in the morning. I know you are tired, I am tired, let's just sleep sweetheart," Henry proposed, taking William out of Anne's arms. He was going to leave then, give Anne her privacy, but then he noticed that everything was clean. Anne was clean, and for the first time in a while, she looked absolutely stunning. So instead of going back into his rooms, and sleeping alone, he curled up next to his wife and took her into his arms. She wasn't churched yet, or in any condition to please him. But he didn't care. For one night, all he wanted to do was sleep next to Anne, and listen to her breathe, because hours ago he thought that he had lost her forever.

Anne smiled as Henry wrapped his arms around her torso. She slept the best she had in months. She felt like she had Henry back. She wasn't prepared to lose him again.

_Well, that's a wrap for this somewhat filler chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it, I feel like it was kind of on the sappier side but it was supposed to be an emotional chapter. So, for those of you who think Henry is done with Jane, think again. Anne's been through a lot but it's not over yet. So look to next chapter for some birth reactions, some unsettling news from Henry and Anne, and perhaps some Arthur/Katherine. Haven't quite decided yet. In the meantime, let me know what you thought! Until next time…_


	40. Chapter Forty

**Author's Note: **Okay, funny story. I have been saying since like May that I was going to be down with this story by mid-August because I wanted to put it to rest before I went to college. Well, move in date is August 29th, and this story is NOT going to be done by then. Which I kind of expected but ignored for my own sake. So all of you who were sad by the idea of this story ending- don't fret! It will continue for longer, I don't know how much longer, but longer. Thank you SO so much for all of your wonderful reviews, for putting this on your favorite's list, for putting me on your favorite's list, or for simply just reading. I am grateful to each and every one of you.

Special thanks to ReganX, for all of her help with brainstorming. And to my good friend TrivialQueen, for moral support.

_Disclaimer: _All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events and are taken only for the purposes of the story. It's very AU. All recognizable characters are a property of Showtime and history. I don't write history, I just mess around with it ;]

Without further ado, chapter forty of this ridiculously long story! I hope you enjoy and review :)

* * *

**Hampton Court **

_October 26, 1529 _

It was the worst possible news anybody could have given her.

Anne knew that she wouldn't make as speedy of a recovery as she did with Lisbeth and Edward, she knew that William's birth had caused damage to her body due to the hard labor and difficult pregnancy. She wouldn't have traded her new son in for any amount of comfort in the world; but even keeping that in mind, it was difficult for her to accept the new prohibition Linacre had set on her.

No sex for six months.

Five years ago, it wouldn't have mattered to her. Henry had waited a year and a half to posses her and she knew that he had not even considered another woman while they waited for things to sort out with their marriage. He had been content with simply spending time with her, conversing with her, dancing with her, and kissing her. A year ago, even, she would have thought that Henry wouldn't stray because of their children, that they would be enough of a bond to hold them together.

Elizabeth had told her that Henry promised her that he would leave Jane and be faithful to Anne as soon as she was fully recovered and churched. Anne had been churched today, and was allowed to rejoin court life, which she missed so much while she was coped up in her rooms. She was still a bit sore from William's birth, but Linacre had prescribed plenty of tonics to dull the pain throughout the day. He suggested that she take a nap mid-afternoon if she ever felt the need to. She was comforted by the idea of Henry's promise to his mother, knowing that now that she was recovered and able to be a wife to him in full, so she didn't mind leaving the court to nap. She trusted that he wouldn't break a promise to his mother, even if he had broken it to her already.

Now, though, everything was different.

Henry had innocently inquired if it was safe for her to resume her conjugal duties, and Anne truly did believe it was out of concern for her health that he asked, but now she wasn't sure. Did he ask because he wanted to know if he needed to keep Jane around? Or did he ask because he truly cared about her and wanted to keep her healthy? Anne hated not knowing. She wanted to trust him, but he had never told her that he was done with Jane Seymour. He only told his mother that he would leave Jane after she was back at full health; he never told Anne. And now she wasn't even in full health!

She tried to read his face when Linacre told him of the ban, but she couldn't. Her husband had trained himself to hide his emotions, at least in front of her. The idea of them not being open and honest with each other hurt more than she thought it would.

"Why?" she heard herself ask, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. She didn't want to seem desperate; like some scorned woman who couldn't trust her husband. Even if that's what she felt like, she still wanted to believe that it was a one-time thing, that there was nothing special about Jane Seymour and that Henry would have learned the error of his ways and never return to her. She wanted more than anything to feel like she was part of a family again; her children, Henry, and herself. No third party interfering with their happiness.

"Forgive me, your grace, but your body suffered a great deal of damage after Lord William's birth. If you were to conceive a child too quickly, it would be dangerous," Linacre explained, fully knowing of the Duke of York's affair with Jane Seymour but he knew it was his job to report what he thought was best for his patient. The Duchess couldn't give birth again at least for another year without serious risk to her body and to her life. This ban would make sure that she didn't, even if it did send the Duke back into the willing arms of another woman.

"Thank you, doctor, for taking such good care of my wife and my son. I will see to it that you are rewarded amply," Henry stated pompously, the tone of dismissal clear in his voice. He knew that Anne was just as bothered by this ban as he was, and he wanted to do his best to soothe her fears, even if it meant lying to her.

He knew well enough that last time he wasn't as careful as he should have been with Jane. He assumed that because Anne was in confinement that she wouldn't know anything of his affair with Jane, but he had went about it all wrong. He was very brazen with his affection with her in public and he had caught the attention of his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and many other prominent courtiers at Hampton, including some of Anne's ladies who she had told to spy for her. Henry should have known that appointing Jane to Anne's household would have caused suspicion in the first place.

If he was going to continue his affair with Jane, he was going to be more careful this time. He didn't want to hurt Anne again, and he didn't want Jane to be ill-treated in Anne's household. Henry still wanted to be the chivalrous knight that he had read about when he was a boy, and he knew that keeping one lady in emotional turmoil and the other in danger wouldn't be the right thing to do.

But he hoped it wouldn't even come down to it. The last time he saw Jane was two weeks before Anne was churched. He told himself that he needed to wait for Anne to get healthy again and to leave things with Jane. He didn't foresee Linacre placing a ban on sex, and now he was torn on what to do. He wanted to try to be a good husband to Anne, to be patient and loving and to wait six months for her to make a full recovery. Even if Jane was still at court, still available, he wanted to at least try and wait it out for Anne.

But knowing that Jane was there made the idea of it more difficult. Even still, Anne needed to hear that he wasn't going to return back to Jane, so he would tell her. Even if he wasn't sure what he was going to do yet.

"Henry…" Anne began, at a loss for words. Too much had passed between them for her to know exactly what to say. She knew that he had left Jane, even if he didn't come right out and say it, she knew that he had. She wanted to be grateful, even if she was still angry. But she knew that she had no right to chastise him anymore, she had said her peace before William was born and Henry knew how she felt. It hurt to think that she couldn't trust him anymore even if she wanted to try, and she hated not being able to say what was on her mind.

Her father had told her, while she was still in confinement, that she had no right to deny Henry's right to take a mistress. He told her that the Seymours were no threat to them; her son was healthy and Henry loved her. He was as gentle as he could be with her, telling her that it wasn't worth the baby's health for her to get upset about her husband straying. She was glad that her father wasn't being cruel to her anymore, and was finally realizing how well she had done for their family, but she couldn't agree with his words. How could she just ignore it? She tried while she was on bed rest, and now she feared that she was going to have to try again in order to sustain her loving marriage. Only this time she wouldn't have the luxury of hiding in her rooms all day.

"Do not trouble yourself. I promise I will not stray this time. I saw what it did to you and I am so sorry. I love you, and I am willing to wait for as long as it takes for you to get healthy," Henry gingerly said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. He didn't know if he could keep his promise to her, just like the time before, but he knew that she wouldn't know any better. He would be careful with Jane if he couldn't wait it out and protect her from any knowledge. He would be a better man this time, or at least appear a better man.

Anne wordlessly nodded, now feeling uncomfortable around her husband. She wanted to believe that he was telling the truth because she couldn't deny that she was relieved by his words. But he had told her once before that he would wait for her, and he didn't. Jane Seymour was still at court, and even though they weren't seeing each other anymore, Jane was unmarried and as willing as ever. She wanted to demand that Henry remove Jane from court, or at least from her household. But the words died in her throat, she couldn't voice her fear, because she didn't want him to become angry. He had said he would wait; for better or for worse, she had to accept that.

So instead, she asked, "How are the children?" The worst part about waiting to be churched and allowed to emerge back into her normal life was not being able to see her children every day. Elizabeth told her that since she had a chat with Henry and had come back to Hampton Court, that Henry was spending more time with their children, so she took comfort at the fact that they were not deprived of both of their parents for too long. However, she still missed them desperately, even if she did see them two weeks ago, it wasn't enough for her. She was more devoted than other royal mothers, and she intended to stay that way.

"Ah yes, I meant to tell you. William has settled into the nursery very well, and his siblings are very fond of him. Edward diligently observes William during the day but still continues to pester Lisbeth and Hal as they try to practice their languages after their tutors leave, but luckily for the two of them, they don't have to worry about that any longer," Henry explained, a sly smile plastered on his face.

"Why? What did you do?" Anne asked, lighting up. It had been a long time since she had had a relaxed conversation with Henry, and she forgot how good it felt to be able to talk to her husband. Her earlier thoughts about Jane Seymour melted away as they discussed their family that they had created, together.

"Let's go to the nursery and you can ask for yourself," Henry proposed, holding out his hand for Anne to take. Despite the fact that things were not the same with them, due to his affair with Jane, he still missed Anne while she was coped up and pregnant. Although she was still carrying around extra weight, Anne looked as radiant as ever, and Henry loved seeing her dressed, her hair done, and looking rested. He thought that maybe as long as they could spend time together, and be together, that it wouldn't be so hard to be faithful this time around.

After all, how hard could it be?

* * *

"I want the carpets to be purple, dark purple," Lisbeth commanded, looking very serious. Her papa had given her permission to decorate her new rooms as she saw fit, and she didn't want anything to go wrong. She wanted to act like her mama did when she was commanding her servants, instead of some spoiled baby. After all, she was four now and she was going to be a princess someday. She wanted everybody to know that right away.

"Yes, my lady," all of them replied in unison, amused by the little girl who was working them as hard as any adult ever had.

"That's all for the day, the Lady Elizabeth has to go to her French lesson now," her governess dismissed, sparing a sympathic smile towards the hard-working servants hired by the Duke of York to help his daughter decorate her new establishment. The workers hired to help Lord FitzYork were not experiencing as much difficulties. The Duke's eldest child made very modest requests if any at all, leaving most of the decisions up to the workers themselves. His sister, on the other hand, was fickle and demanding, as much as a four year old was expected to be about decorating her new suite of rooms.

Lisbeth bounced excitingly at the prospect of going to her French lesson, which was her favorite subject, mostly because her mama spoke French too and she lived in France for a long time, and her papa said that she may marry a French prince someday. She wanted to be prepared for her future life and she had a natural talent for languages. Even though she loved her lessons, however, she was more thrilled at the prospect of moving out of her crowded nursery with the rest of her siblings and she longed to keep working on that!

"Lisbeth, you are going to give your servants a headache," Hal told her, favoring her with a smile. Out of all of his siblings, he spoke to Lisbeth the most, and he knew how excited she was about moving out of the nursery, and had no trouble making lavish requests for her new suite of rooms. Hal loved her enthusiasm, but couldn't find himself mirroring it. He didn't want to flaunt his status as the King's son, because he knew he was only a bastard still, regardless of his almost equal treatment. His suite of rooms wasn't any smaller than Lisbeth, and his father told both of them that he would spare no expense for either of them, but he still didn't want to be overzealous, so he requested only plain things, nothing that looked too rich.

"But my rooms are going to be pretty!" Lisbeth stressed.

Hal simply smiled, and whatever he was going to say next was cut off by his brother Edward's screaming "Mama! Papa!" he yelled, running past his older siblings with extreme excitement towards their mother and father who had just arrived.

"How's my boy?" Henry asked, sweeping his son into his arms. "You are getting quite heavy, I may not be able to carry you anymore," he teased, but he was beaming with pride at the health and vigor of his middle son, his legitimate heir and the future Prince of Wales. Edward was everything that a King wanted in a son; he was intelligent, healthy, charismatic, and kind. He was so proud that he was able to sire such a boy, fully knowing that his brother and his wife had failed where he and Anne had succeeded, twice. Thinking of the newest addition, he asked, "Are you taking good care of your brother?"

"He doesn't do much, papa, he just sort of gurgles a lot, and he sleeps too and sometimes he cries but never when I'm around," Edward proudly reported. When William came into the nursery a few weeks ago, Edward wasn't used to not being the youngest anymore, but he didn't mind so much. He hated being treated like a baby, especially since he was almost two now, and now that William was around, he was being treated more and more like a big boy. After he turned two in December, he would be able to start basic lessons, and he was so excited!

"Because he knows you are his big brother," Anne explained, holding her arms out so Edward could give her a hug from the arms of his father. Anne knew that Henry favored Edward the most out of all of the children, and she knew that she favored Lisbeth more, but both of them were making much more of an effort to include Hal, even though he was older now, and then there was William, who was still a baby but would need to be included and nurtured. She didn't know juggling four children would be so difficult!

"I missed you mama," Edward confessed. Hal and his household told him many times that it was important for him to patient for their mama to recover, but it was hard for Edward, who had seen his mama everyday as long as he could remember, and to have her leave and be sick was difficult for him. He was glad that she was alright and able to visit them again.

"I missed you too my darling boy but now we can make up for lost time," Anne promised, kissing her son's cheek and heading over to the other children.

"Mama!" Lisbeth ran into her mother's outstretched arms, forgoing the proper greeting. She hadn't seen her mama in nearly two weeks, and they were in the nursery. In private, she was allowed to be informal with both of her parents, but in public, she knew that she had to call them "your grace" and curtsey to them properly. Her governess stressed that her parents were very important people- Lisbeth knew that and only wanted to impress them.

"I hear you have a French lesson to attend," Anne said, smiling but inside she was disappointed. She was hoping to visit while her daughter was unoccupied. "And your papa says that you are moving out the nursery soon."

"Yes mama, I am getting my own rooms!" Lisbeth said, beaming. "When they are ready I want you to be the first person to see them. And since you're here maybe I don't have to go to my French lesson," Lisbeth brightly predicted, marching up to her governess and pulling her aside. "I haven't seen mama in a long time. Can I make up my lesson tomorrow?" she begged, smiling brightly and charmingly.

"I suppose so, Lady Elizabeth," she conceded, curtseying to the Duke and the Duchess and giving the family some privacy.

Lisbeth, now contented, nestled in between her mother and father, began to jabber about her lessons for a long time. Anne wanted to go and speak to Hal, and also hold William for a little while, but she couldn't bring herself to stop Lisbeth's ramblings. Her daughter was the most focused out of all of her children, and was starting to surpass her older cousin and brother. She had no doubt that when all of her children were grown, that Lisbeth would be the most intelligent, which would disappoint Henry, but would thrill her. It was so rare for a girl to receive the same education as a boy, and she was glad that her bright and able daughter was able to cultivate her God-given talent.

After Lisbeth was done, and breathless, Anne called over Hal. "How are the preparations for your establishment coming along?" she inquired, studying the eight year old's expression carefully. Hal seemed genuinely happy, she thought, not quite as bubbly as the other children but he had always been more solemn anyway. She knew that the stigma of his status hung over him still, but since their talk in the garden, he had been more willing to embrace it.

"Very well, mother, I am truly grateful that I am leaving the nursery," Hal revealed. He loved all of his siblings dearly, but he thought that he had outgrown it. He was eight years old, he didn't think that he needed to be surrounded by children who were much younger than him. Edward Brandon was close to him in age but he was very close with his own sister, Frances, since the death of their mother. He knew that Lisbeth was strangely intelligent for her age and gender, so he got along with her well, but he was looking forward to having his own place to go, and to hopefully get schoolroom companions around his age.

"I imagine so, since it is long overdue. Would you like to show me some of the plans?" Anne asked, hoping that Henry hadn't skimped on budget and was fair with both of their children. She knew that Henry thought the same as her; that Hal was to be treated like the rest of their children. She hoped that it extended to money as well, and she hoped that both of her children wanted for nothing in the new rooms.

Before Hal could answer, Lisbeth interjected. "No! Our rooms are a surprise. We aren't going to tell anybody, right Hal?" Lisbeth confirmed, looking formidably at her older brother. She thought they had an agreement.

"Yes, I'm sorry mother, but I have an agreement that I have to uphold," Hal revealed, hoping that she would understand. Lisbeth wanted their parents to be surprised by what they had done with their rooms. She wanted them to be impressed with their maturity and their skill at decorating and commanding the servants- even if she had not said it like that, he knew his sister always wanted to make their parents proud. He found himself mirroring her sentiments, even if he thought withholding the plans with unnecessary. He could do little to disappoint her though.

"Ahh, I see. Well, I cannot wait to see them, I'm sure they will be lovely. If you will excuse me though, I am going to bring your baby brother in here so we can all spend time together," Anne said, rushing away as quickly as she could before Lisbeth assaulted her with more questions and more anecdotes from the two weeks they had been separated.

William was asleep when she entered his isolated room in the nursery. It was the same room that all of the children, Lisbeth onward, slept in before they were ready to be included in the general group. Anne had had it commissioned because she didn't want the older children and their households to be bothered by the baby's crying. William, so she had heard from his nurse, was a remarkably well-behaved baby and cried rarely. He slept most of the time and only woke up when his older brother, Edward, came to visit. He only cried when he was hungry.

The idea of her son being hungry made her bound breasts ache, but per usual, she was not allowed to feed her own child. The milk was slowly starting to dry up, but it was taking longer than it did with Lisbeth and Edward. She hated that she was unable to feed her own child, that a wetnurse did what she thought she needed to do, what her body longed for her to do, but she knew that was the way Henry preferred. Henry knew that Katherine did not feed her daughter, and that his mother feed none of her children. It was the royal custom, and heaven forbid they look anything less than royal.

She picked up her son gingerly, hoping not to stir him. He did rouse, though, and looked up at her with curious eyes. She was so glad that she didn't resent her son for what had happen during her long and difficult pregnancy. William was a large baby, and he was healthy, despite his questionable health after his birth. At about six weeks old, he was much larger than he remembered. She had missed two weeks of his life and was amazed at how much heavier he felt. She gasped in wonder when he wrapped his tiny hand around her finger. It was the best feeling that she had in a while.

She walked back out into the main room of the nursery, and felt tears rise in her eyes when she saw her husband with their three other children, clearly engaged in conversation. She felt so much love towards the man that caused her pain recently, and she knew, then and there, that she could forgive him. She could forgive him for forgoing their marriage bed. Not just for her children, but because she loved him. She loved how great of a father he was, and how wonderful he had been to her after William's birth. She just loved him.

"Ah, there she is. Bring the baby over here," Henry invited, with a wide smile. That's when she knew that she had the best family a woman could possibly be blessed with. Three beautiful children, and a stepson who she considered her own. They were all proving to be intelligent children and her husband didn't skimp on any of their expenses. And someday, they would be the princes and princess of England, she would be Queen, and the man who loved her would be King.

How could she ever think a silly blonde girl could ruin that for her?

* * *

Mary Boleyn had never been so grateful that Anne had eclipsed her.

For nearly the past two years, since Anne had her first son and fell pregnant with her second, she could have been the only Boleyn child in existence. George and his wife, Jane, were also left in the shadows, and George had confided in her that he was grateful for that, since he had yet to produce an heir with her. Mary didn't question why, after four years of marriage, that George and his wife had not yet been able to conceive, but she didn't dare bring it up to her father. George seemed happy with his lot in life and she didn't want to ruin that for him.

And now, she had problems of her own to contend with.

Her husband had died nearly two years ago, leaving her a widow with two children. She didn't mourn him as such, Sir William Carey was not a bad husband, and he did not condemn her sketchy past with the King of France, but he was not a particularly loving one either. They didn't have any lasting connection, and when he was carried away by the sweating sickness she didn't remember even shedding a tear. The only thing that mattered to her was her children, and what their prospects were now that their father was dead.

Luckily, Anne was not going to let her niece and nephew out in the cold, even if her father didn't seem to care. She provided her with the assurance that when her children got their own establishments that they would be schoolroom companions to whoever they were closest in age to. And she made sure that Mary was provided with a considerably generous pension. Mary had lived well with her two children and didn't have the desire to remarry, until she met him.

William Stafford was not a man that she would have been attracted to five years ago. He was a common solider, a respectable but not well-born man. He was brutally honest with her, never once deferring to her as the Duchess of York's sister or at the very least, a widow of a knight who was favored by the King. His roguish attitude repulsed her at first, and then she was actually refreshed by it. Especially when he mentioned that her father had neglected her for two years but not arranging a marriage or at the very least a pension for her. He thought it was very sad that she was dependent on the charity of her sister in order to stay afloat.

He was in the employment of her uncle; he was in no way equal to anybody in her family. She was the sister to the future Queen of England, her husband needed to be someone of acceptable bloodline and good standing in the court. She originally thought, that when she fell in love with him, that she could never marry him. Then that thought slowly began to enrage her. How dare her father or anybody else in her family deny her another chance at happiness?

She had been sent to France at a young age, and then forced into the bed of the King of France by her father after he showed the slightest inclination towards her. Then he forced her into the beds of his favorite courtiers, and she was known to all of France as the Great Prostitute. When she arrived in England, she was married right away, even though Anne was not. Anne was allowed to be single until as long as she wanted, as her marriage negotiations fell through time after time again. But Mary, due to her attractiveness and her age, was a highly desirable candidate even if her past was not. So she was married to the first man who accepted her, a kind man but a man who wouldn't rise far. Anne married the Duke of York and was in line to be Queen. Mary was a knight's widow now. Despite the fact that everyone had told her at one time that she was to be the most successful due to her good looks, Anne was the most successful Boleyn and Mary had been left to almost nothing.

Anne was kind to her, securing her a good place in her household and giving her a good pension and provided for her children. She didn't gloat in her victory but she was the only one who seemed to remember that she existed.

So what if she wanted to be loved by a man beneath her? Anne should accept that. Anne and her father should accept that she should be allowed to be happy for one time in her life. That's what she thought as she married Will in secret. She should be happy. He loved her for her, not for her name or for the hope of riches. He loved her on her own merits. She thought that once Anne had her child, that once everything with Jane Seymour blew over, that it would be safe to tell her. To talk to her sister to sister and confide that this was the only man that she could see herself loving.

But she had to go sooner than she liked now that she was with child. She had grown larger, and she was glad Anne was distracted by her child and by her marriage to notice her weight. But she was at least five months along now and she didn't want everybody at court to think that she had become another man's mistress. She was a married woman, married to a man who loved her. She had nothing to be ashamed of anymore.

She wore a gown that didn't hide her pregnancy because she was sick of feeling constricted in a tight corset in order to hide it. For better or for worse, her secret was getting out now.

She had requested time off after William was born so she could go see her children (and her husband, but she didn't tell Anne) and Anne granted her it to her willingly. She didn't know how long she would be gone so when Mary entered Anne's rooms she was relieved to find her alone, and Anne was shocked to see her and then was shocked by her appearance. She had no idea Mary was with child! As Mary approached closer, however, she noticed that Anne was not alone. Their father was with her.

"Mary, you are home!" Anne exclaimed, ignoring the unspoken truth in the room and hugging her sister. She was truly glad to see her returned, though she was expecting an explanation as to her condition.

"Whose child is in your belly?" her father asked harshly, glaring at both Anne and her as if they were partners in some sordid crime. Anne, taking the hint, unlatched Mary from her hug and sulked back over to their father. Mary was disappointed, she was hoping that Anne would have broken free of the chains of their father, but then she realized that it wasn't their father. Anne would also be upset if she married without her permission. She felt dread now, this was not going to go as smoothly as she thought. Even if she was alone with Anne (though her father being there didn't help matters) she still knew that she would not be welcome back at court. Still, she had to fight.

"It is my husband's," she replied bravely.

Anne, hesitantly, responded, "I had no idea you were married. Who is he? Is he a man at Whitehall or is he here?" Mary could tell that Anne was doing everything she could to be patient and understanding about the fact that she had not asked the head of the family for permission to marry (even if her father acted like he was the head, all decisions needed to be cleared through Anne now too, since Edward was born, Mary knew that just as well as George did).

"He is not at court, sister, either court. He lives in the country," Mary revealed, bracing herself for impact.

"Out with it girl! What is his name! Who is his family!" her father exploded.

"His name is William Stafford. He is of little standing and no blood. He is a soldier who was stationed in Calais," she heard her father sigh irately, but she pushed onward, "and he loves me! He is the only man who has ever truly loved me. After everything I've been through, I thought you would both understand that all I desire in this life is to have somebody who loves me."

"You are cut off, girl, do you hear me? You and your husband will not be welcome at either court, and you will receive no money from your sister or I any longer!" Thomas Boleyn commanded. He knew he had no right to control Anne's funds, but in this case, Mary's behavior and stupidity could not be condoned by either of them. Anne was the future Queen of England; this scandal would do terrible harm to her reputation if it was not handled properly. Anne needed to think of her children and her marriage; not about her sister who had dug her own grave.

Mary, seeing that addressing her father would do her no good, turned to Anne. "Anne, please, I need that money for my children, for this child. Anne, please, I love him. I thought you of all people would understand that," Mary begged.

Anne tensed up. She had pain in her eyes but her voice was full of resolve, "No. You did not ask my permission," she insisted, averting her eyes.

"Anne, please, don't do this to me. Anne, please. Please."

"No, I can't. You have to leave. You are not welcome back here," Anne commanded, turning her back. She could feel her father glare at her sister, and she could hear her sister's teary protests, but she had to stay strong. She was in-charge of her siblings as well as her children now, due to her status in the family. She was the highest ranking member, without her, they would be nothing. She couldn't allow her sister to marry whomever she wanted without asking her permission. It was harsh, but it needed to be done. The children she had by William Carey would be taken care of, but their mother was dead to her.

Still, when Mary left, penniless and without a place to go, with only her husband to support her, Anne knew that she had made a mistake. She had neglected another one of her siblings, and compromised their happiness. She hated herself for it.

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

It had been four weeks since he had lain with a woman. It had been nearly six months since he had laid with Anne. He had over five months left to go in Linacre's probation.

He had every intention of staying faithful to his wife, for the sake of their children and her health. He did love her, and he thought that he could wait, just like before. Before they were married, he would have waited years to be with her if it meant the promise of many years to come of them being together at night without the stigma or fear of conceiving children out of wedlock. Anne would be his and they would be happy.

Now, Anne was his. She was not the unattainable and morally ridged woman who he had fallen for when he was a single man of twenty. She was a woman now, mother to his three heirs. She was his wife now, the one who had pledged before God to be faithful to. And she was also a woman who had just given birth to a child who had caused her a great deal of pain and stress, and her body needed to recover. She could not conceive again, and Henry couldn't take that risk. If he loved her as much as he knew he did, it was supposed to be a small sacrifice to make.

But tonight, he was restless. He desired Anne more than he thought he ever did. So lying next to them, in the bed they shared on many occasions, much more pleasant than this, he reached over and stroked her hair. Though she was asleep, this physical contact roused her, and she drowsily turned her head and smiled. She nestled into the crook of his arm, and fell back asleep. Henry sighed, frustrated. So he began to plant kisses on her neck, hoping to make her feel as much desire as he was feeling now.

Anne, despite being fully aware of the ban, returned his kiss and leaned into it. Kissing wasn't in the ban, and she did long to feel physically close to her husband again.

But when Henry began to nudge her thighs open and lay on top of her, she felt her body tense. She wanted this, badly, she wanted them to be man and wife again, but they couldn't. She couldn't risk her own health, but she felt conflicted. It was a man's right to lay with his wife whenever he felt the urge too. A ban for her health, did that matter to him? She felt tears stream down her eyes, she wanted to cry out, say that they couldn't do this, but the words died in her throat. What lengths was she prepared to go to win her husband back? To keep him here with her, so he didn't return to his slut?

"Oh no, sweetheart, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Henry panicked, rolling off of her, glad that he didn't go as far as he wanted to. "We need to wait, I'm sorry," he said, stroking her hair.

Anne nodded, her eyes wide with fear. She didn't want to lose him again, not to Jane, and she feared this would do it. "You will stay the night thought still? I like this," she confided, feeling her cheeks flush red. If he stayed here with her, then he wouldn't be able to visit Jane at night. She hoped he wouldn't say no.

"Of course, I'm never leaving again," he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him. He knew what he had to do now. Anne's health couldn't be risked by his desire. He couldn't wait six months for her to get healthy, and he didn't want to hurt her. Tonight he remembered that he needed to stop, that it wasn't right for him to selfishly compromise her health. But what about in a few months down the road? Would he be able to contain himself then? He honestly didn't know.

The next day, he knew he needed to talk to Jane.

_I think that was one of the most difficult chapters to write, because I'm not ready for major plot action but I didn't want it to be pure filler either. I hope everyone especially enjoyed the children's part, that part was tough to right because I wanted them to have their personalities start to shine (with the exception of baby William, of course). Next chapter will have Jane Seymour return, some stuff with Hal, and hopefully I will be able to include Arthur and Katherine, who were sadly missing from this chapter. I REALLY hope everyone enjoyed this one :) Please don't forget to review! Until next time my wonderful readers…_


	41. Chapter Forty One

**Author's Note: **Okay, first of all, let me start off by issuing an apology. I have been so terribly remiss with this story. I blame college, and my major that requires me to read and write an obscene amount, leaving me no energy or time to do my own writing. This story is not dead! I promise. I still am very devoted to it, and I definitely need it as an outlet. So no worries. I just don't know how often updates will be coming, and I'm sorry about that, but there isn't much I can do. So please, enjoy this update, and I will be sure to get the next one out to you as speedily as I can. Thank you for your patience and for sticking with me for over two years now. I am very grateful for this fan base that seems to grow with each chapter I post- I cannot believe I have over 580 reviews!

_Disclaimer: _All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events and are taken only for the purposes of the story. It's very AU. All recognizable characters are a property of Showtime and history. I don't write history, I just mess around with it ;]

Also, some credit goes to ReganX, who a long time ago helped me with this idea. Thanks girl :)

Without further ado, chapter forty-one of King Arthur II! Please enjoy and don't forget to review! :)

* * *

**Hampton Court**

_November 20, 1529_

Hal's rooms were not what she expected, especially after seeing Lisbeth's.

Anne assumed that because Henry had given the children creative license and more than enough funds to decorate their rooms as they saw fit, that both of them would take full advantage of that fact. Anne would have if her father had provided her with that opportunity as a child, and she knew that Lisbeth had inherited her taste for finery. Even though Hal wasn't hers naturally, he was a child nonetheless, and children enjoyed being indulged. She was so thrilled that Henry had moved Hal out of the nursery, and though her daughter was younger, she knew that Lisbeth would flourish in her own household. She was giddy with anticipation to see what her children had done with their rooms.

Henry teased her for it, told her that she was probably more excited than the children were to see their own establishments. But she couldn't help herself. Being coped up waiting for William to be born had been difficult for her, and it wasn't just because Henry had taken a mistress. She missed her children and since she had been out of confinement she had felt closer to them. She often bothered Henry to come visit them with her and unlike before, he usually agreed. She wasn't sure if it was the guilt of hurting her and causing her problems while she was pregnant, or that he truly wanted to, but either way she wasn't complaining.

Even if they couldn't spend the night together, she fully intended on making most out of their days. But he declined to accompany her on this day; he was planning something or another. Anne didn't bother to question it; for her, he had done enough recently and she was more than content to inspect her children's new rooms for herself.

She had gone to Lisbeth's first, because the young girl was far more vocal than her stepson. Lisbeth had gone about planning her rooms with vigor and efficiency, something that Anne could hardly be surprised by. Her daughter had always been bright and able, surpassing all of the children her age and even those older, no matter their gender. Anne was proud, to say the least. Since she had married Henry, she had been mentored by two strong-willed and wise Queen Consorts, Elizabeth and Katherine, and she wanted her daughter to be resilient like the two women who had shown Anne the right, and wrong, ways to use her influence over her husband.

Lisbeth would never be the Queen of England, but Anne hoped that Henry would secure a marriage that would make her the Queen of something (France, preferably). Her daughter would leave her, and she wanted her to leave secure with the knowledge that she would rule her country and influence her husband well.

So she was naturally pleased that Lisbeth was already handling her household well. Henry had shown a slight amount of skepticism in letting Lisbeth mirror Hal by allowing Lisbeth to receive her own household; after all, Hal was a male and four years older than Lisbeth. But Anne knew that her daughter could do it. She was a Boleyn and a Tudor, and the best of Henry and Anne. Anne loved her boys more than words could describe, and in Edward she saw the future of England, but in Lisbeth she saw such potential for greatness. She would never voice these suspicions, not even to Henry or Elizabeth, but in her heart of hearts, she knew her daughter would do incredible things.

She felt silly for feeling so strongly about a four year old, but she just couldn't help herself. Henry would take her boys away, all three of them, and whisk them into a world of high-pressure princely education, but not her Lisbeth. Lisbeth was hers, and she intended to do right by her daughter.

So after spending a great deal of time in her daughter's room, who showered her with anecdotes from her lessons and her experiences being out of the nursery (Anne was touched that she had expressed missing her brothers) she had to head over to Hal's before it was supper time.

Hal's room was plain, to say the least. The walls were grey, the bed was smaller than she had expected, and there were no colors or fine tapestry. The only beauty and richness the room possessed was its size and the light that came in through the windows. She was pleased to see that he had put his desk by the window, so he could derive the benefits of the room she specifically picked because she knew how much he loved sunlight and the outdoors. His room even overlooked the garden. It had the potential to be one of the loveliest rooms in all of Hampton Court, but instead it hardly looked fit for the meekest of courtiers, let alone the son of the richest man in the kingdom and the son of the future King of England.

"Hal, darling, were your funds not properly allocated?" Anne asked, concerned. She knew that Henry had provided the same amount of money to both children and let them do what they saw fit with it, but she knew that there had been questions of Hal's status before, and she wanted to make sure that there had been no foul play amongst the servants of Hampton Court. She knew her son was sensitive about his status, and she would have been furious if he was in anyway reminded cruelly about his bastard status. He was to be treated as equal as possible to his siblings, at all times.

"No, I received all of them. Thank you, mother. I am very pleased to have my own rooms," Hal replied, monotone. It was as if he had practiced what he had to say, and that he wasn't truly happy to see her or to have his own rooms apart from the nursery.

"Leave us," Anne commanded. She didn't want to have this conversation with prying ears, she had been taught by Elizabeth not to trust the servants, regardless if they were handpicked or not. "Is there something wrong? This room doesn't look like it's used up the money your father gave to you."

"Nothing is wrong, but father was far too generous. Lisbeth is a princess, or will be. Her rooms should be finer than the bastard's," Hal calmly reasoned. While he did feel better after the conversation he had with his mother months ago in the garden, he knew the truth. He was loved by his parents, especially his mother, and they would do their best for him. But he knew how society worked now, he wasn't a dullard, his father had seen to that. A bastard would never be trueborn.

"But we gave you the same amount of money as your sister so there would be no question as to what you were allowed to do. Hal, these rooms are yours! You should do with them what you like," Anne explained. She loved it when she finally got her own rooms at Hampton and at Whitehall. They felt like home, for the first time in her life she was in charge of where she lived looked like. It was liberating. She only wanted that for her son, who had expressed impatience at still being in the nursery.

"What kind of message would that send? I didn't want to make Lisbeth look bad. So I didn't make them too lavish, and to me, this feels right." He knew that his mother would do this, and at least she cared enough to do so, but he had made up his mind. His rooms weren't as nice as Lisbeth's, but he was happy with them. His bed cloths were warm, his mattress comfortable and he was never fond of bright colors or extravagant tapestries. "Don't worry, mother, I plan on having a few more paintings brought in. Then, it will feel like home, at last."

"But I know for a fact that you will have plenty of funds left over, what will you do with them?" Anne asked, since he would clearly not be swayed by any other idea.

"Give them out as extra alms, I suppose. You do that often enough, why waste money on me? Trust me, it is better this way. I appreciate all that you have done for me, mother, but this is the way it's going to have to be," Hal explained. He had thought long and hard about what he was going to do with the money, and to him, this made the most sense.

Anne didn't know what else to do, clearly Hal had thought this through very well and nothing she could say or do would change his mind. So after spending a few more hours with Hal, discussing his assignments and his classroom companions (or anything else he was willing to share with her these days) she headed straight down to Henry's rooms so they could have dinner together, as usual.

Henry didn't spend the night in her room as often anymore. She took comfort in that fact, because if they spent too many nights together he would be tempted to resume his marital rights, something neither of them were advised to do for another five months. Yet she wished that they could at least sleep in the same bed, but if Henry couldn't manage to keep to himself then she had supposed it was better off this way, even if in the middle of the night she longed for his arms around her body and when he wasn't there she felt sick from the loneliness.

But they were not a normal husband and wife, and deep in her heart, she knew that.

Once she arrived, her thoughts were halted by a brief kiss on the lips. "Sweetheart, how are you?" he asked kindly.

"I am well, it's just that I am concerned about Hal, again," she confided right away. She figured that waiting for it to be brought up would only make her more anxious about what she was going to ask him. Even though they seemed to be on better footing now, she wasn't sure how well requesting something would go. Henry was still the Duke of York and she was still just his wife; she had overstepped before and didn't want to upset him again, not when things were going so well! Nevertheless, she wanted to do what was best for her child, and was willing to take that risk for Hal.

"Did something go wrong with his household?" Henry asked, his thoughts running similarly to Anne's originally. He had no idea how he was going to manage Hal once he became King, it would be much more difficult to hide his status once he became the recognized bastard of the King of England, as opposed to the Duke of York. How much longer could he and Anne shield him from the cruelty of this world? He would replace his household as many times as necessary, but he knew once Hal was older and on his own things would be very difficult for him. It was something that weighed on him.

"No, thank God." She took a pause, unsure of the way to broach this. She didn't want to make Hal appear ungrateful, because she knew it was much more than that. Her son craved stability and security, and she knew only Henry could give it to him. "He did not utilize his funds. His rooms are very plain; he maybe used a quarter of what was allotted for him, if that. When I asked him what had happened, he said he didn't want to outshine our legitimate children." Anne felt tears sting her eyes at the thought of Hal sacrificing what was given to him because he thought it was proper. She never wanted her children to lack anything they wanted. She had plenty to give out for alms, so she knew Hal's generosity was kind but not entirely necessary.

Henry took Anne's hand into his own and kissed her lips from across the table, still touched by her love towards his bastard son. He felt a pang of guilt to what he had been doing a few hours ago, while she was meeting with Hal and Lisbeth, but he quickly suppressed that. "You are such a wonderful mother, sweetheart, for bringing this to me. But there is nothing neither you nor I can do. It is Hal's decision so we must respect that."

Hal's household staff wasn't as large as Lisbeth's, Henry knew that. He was given enough to decorate his room with as much splendor as Lisbeth, but the fact was that Lisbeth would be a marriage prospect for foreign nations. Her rooms had to appear royal, because she would be the future Princess of England. No nations would be courting marriage prospects for Hal, and Henry had to acknowledge that fact. Hiding it from his clever children would be difficult, but that was his goal. He was upset that Hal was already sabotaging that, but he didn't see what he could do.

"Yes, I understand that, but is there not something that you can do that will show him that he is loved? That although he may not be equal in status but that he will always be treated with the respect his blood demands of him?" Anne fiercely questioned. She was frustrated by Henry's nonchalance at this. Hal needed his father to step up and prove that he meant what he said. She knew Henry meant well, but action needed to be taken. Clearly Hal wouldn't be sedated by just their words anymore.

Henry stared at his wife with a mixture of shock at the fierceness of her tone, and admiration for her dedication. "He can start eating in the great hall for supper, up on the dais, with us. Everybody will know, then, how much we love him and that he is not to be insulted."

"You think it will help him too?" Anne asked, Hal's feelings being her primary concern. She could quell gossip, soothe Hal's worries about what others were saying, but if he truly felt in his heart that his father and his mother did not care for him as much as their other children, due to his parentage, well that was something Anne couldn't fix. Only Henry could.

"I think so, my love. He is the only one of our children old enough to do so, it will make him special, at least for a little while. Perhaps, by then, he will have grown out of it," Henry soothed, rubbing his wife's hand with his thumb. "Now, let's eat before the food goes cold, shall we?"

Anne nodded and smiled, happy that her husband shared her concerns, and tried very hard not to doubt his competence. She vowed to speak to Elizabeth and Katherine about it later, knowing that they would understand her more than Henry did when it came to her children.

* * *

"Arthur, darling, wake up its morning. You have a Privy Council meeting very soon," Katherine shook her husband awake, when that did not work, she slide her hand up his chest and kissed him deeply. His eyes fluttered open.

"What a lovely way to wake up, good morning," he weakly greeted her. "Boy," he called to his groom, "please alert the Privy Council that the meeting will be pushed back, so I may break my fast with my lovely wife. And dismiss the others, so we may be alone."

"Is that wise?" Katherine asked, half-teasing.

Arthur didn't answer her, just kissed her again and stood up to dress himself, since he had dismissed his servants, as it was a rare treat for him to be alone with Katherine in the morning. "I feel lightheaded, actually." He confessed as he stood up, and immediately sat down.

"Arthur, cancel the meeting," Katherine warned as she rubbed his shoulders. "You cannot be ill, ever." The fear was palpable in her tone. If Arthur got sick, she knew that was it. He wouldn't survive the rest of the year, and she would spend Christmas as a widow, under the reign of King Henry the eight. The thought made her shudder; she had not trained Anne yet to be the type of consort that she knew needed to be in place in order for Henry's kingship to be successful. She needed more time.

The sentimental woman inside of her also mourned the idea of losing her husband anytime soon. To her, he still seemed like that young prince that she fell in love with all of those years ago. But time had not been kind to Arthur, being King was difficult for him. His body rebelled against the stress of running his country, and recently he had been sleeping in much later, even though he was only 35 and was always an early riser until just a few months ago. His health had always been cause for concern in their marriage, but she didn't think it would shorten his life so much and so rapidly.

"I am not ill, I am just tired. Your snoring kept me awake," Arthur teased, kissing her lightly again and making a move to stand up, only to sit back down. "You should go in my place, love. I will stay here and rest."

"I will send somebody up with food and to tend to you. I will be back soon," Katherine explained. She usually relished opportunities to attend Privy Council meetings, which had become rarer after Mary's death, when she drew more into herself so Arthur would not leave her. When it became clear that he wasn't going to, she had felt her considerable influence had already slipped away from Arthur's advisors (aside from dear Chancellor More). They had never been comfortable with the Queen of England having so much influence over the affairs of the kingdom, and were probably relieved that she had stopped coming, which put them in an awkward position. She used to enjoy having a say, but today, all she felt was concern and she didn't want to leave Arthur.

But she was still the Queen and her lord had commanded her to do something, so she would never shrink from her duties. It was what her mother taught her to do, all of those years back, and she would never forget.

The meeting was short and brief, nothing remarkable. Martin Luther's call for reformation scared her, but she and Arthur had maintained a firm grip on any reports of heresy arising in England. Besides, she knew Thomas More was more than capable with dealing with any religious dissent in the country. But Katherine had bigger concerns than Luther's rebellion against the Holy Father and her church. Her husband's illness distracted her from any sort of involvement that a few years ago, she may have relished. When Arthur died, she wouldn't have the luxury of attending Privy Council meetings.

He had to live. Katherine couldn't imagine a world without him, not when he was still too young. She thought, since God had taken so much from her, that He would give her the blessing of letting Arthur and her grow old together. One small gift after a lifetime of losing so much. She told herself that no matter what, it was God's will, though the words rang hollow when she thought about Arthur leaving her now.

When she returned, nobody would let her into her own chambers. "Forgive me, your majesty, the King is ill. He requests that your majesty go to his chambers, for fear of contamination," a groom politely requested, standing firmly over the door.

Katherine remembered that when Old King Henry fell ill, his mother wept for hours outside of his bedchamber when she was denied entrance, bemoaning her loss to the dynasty. Katherine had never felt much for Margaret Beaufort aside from disgust, so she was surprised when she suddenly related to her. She felt her influence slip away and the image of young Henry being crowned flashed through her mind. She could lose it all.

But there was one thing Margaret Beaufort didn't have that she did: actual power. People respected her, and didn't just few her as a shadowy figure. She had made her presence known. She was reminded of the time, long ago now, when she was still the Princess of Wales. She had commanded to be admitted into Arthur's chambers when he had the sweating sickness. She did not back down then, and she certainly wasn't going to now, after everything they had been through.

"No. I am the Queen of England. You cannot bar me from my own rooms, unless I am under arrest," Katherine forcefully commanded. "Let me through." Her tone was calm, but threatening. The groom picked up on it and let her through.

She felt like she was a teenager again, but it wasn't the good feeling. She ran to his bedside, her dignity forgone. She couldn't believe that they were there, again. She knew that this day would come, but she hated it. Her stomach felt heavy, as though there was a heavy fruit pit had landed in her gut. Her voice caught.

"Arthur," she whispered, her tears already flowing at the sight of him bedridden, again. "You can't ever leave me," she fiercely commanded, kissing his ringed hand furiously. "In soul, in reality, in my heart, I am nothing without you."

Arthur smiled back at her, and wiped her tears. "My love, I am not dying. The physician says I will be fine, just to take it easy for a few days. You have nothing to fear, I just need to get more sleep and start letting me advisors take over more," Arthur explained. He hated seeing her so distressed, so he embellished a bit for his wife's sake. He hadn't been a healthy man for a long time and he knew it was only getting worse as he grew older. Linacre did mention that if he allowed his advisors to do more of the work he usually took upon himself, then the strain on his health would be less.

"I will go in your place as many times as you want me to," Katherine promised. Anything to make him healthy.

"I know, my fierce warrior queen. And I trust you more than I trust them," Arthur assured her. Of course he did, he still remembered their plans from years ago. Even though she hadn't been as active of a part in his government as she was in the old days, especially after Mary's death and Henry's realization as heir, he knew what she was raised to be. She was raised to be in every way his equal, and a lesser man would have hated a wife like her. But it was one of the things he loved about her, as long as she did not meddle too heavily with his family. The affairs of the kingdom were just as much hers as they were his. It was THEIR vision.

Katherine smiled broadly at the compliment, confident once again in his immense love for her. She suppressed the idea of losing him anytime soon. She would be more prevalent and take over more of his duties if that's what he wanted, with the assurance that he would be healthy. "You promise me that we have many more years together? You must swear to me now, on the grave of our daughter, that you will thrive for me. You have to. You have to survive."

Arthur took his hand and swore to her, hoping that it would be true. Yet, he made sure to arrange a meeting with Thomas More and explained that Henry would be joining the Privy Council soon. His heir had to be ready.

* * *

**Hampton Court**

_Two Weeks Later_

Hal was honored to sit on the dais with his father, he really was.

At first, he enjoyed it. He felt special, since all of the other children were too young to eat in the Grand Hall. He loved how richly designed it was, how delicious all of the food was, and there was so much of it! There were also a lot of pretty ladies, and he of course at eight years old just began to understand the differing types of women at court. None, of course, shone as bright as his adopted mama, the Duchess of York, when she was in attendance.

However, everybody at court knew that his mother had to take more rest recently. Her body had never quite recovered after Lord William's birth and the Duke encouraged her to take rest as often as she needed. Hal was glad for it, knowing that his mama had been sick during her pregnancy. He loved his new baby brother, and he was glad everything was okay, although dinner was far jollier when she was around.

Recently, she had been attending less and less, and Hal began to notice things that were REALLY different when she wasn't around.

A different lady was around his papa, one of his mama's ladies-in-waiting. He remembered her from times when he had visited. She was blonde, shorter than some of the other women, with a meek face. However, his papa clearly favored her, and didn't want his mama to know. When his mama was around, he didn't think he'd ever see this other lady, this 'Mistress Seymour' as the court called her. When she was taking a nap, however, Mistress Seymour was constantly by his father's side. Nobody had seemed to take issue with this, but to Hal, this was distressing. To him, his mama was supposed to be the only man around his father like that. He didn't understand, and he felt like his mama wouldn't like this if she were there.

So when he was summoned to see his mama, he was going to be quiet about it. He didn't think his mama would mention it anyway, since she wanted to talk about his lessons and if there were any boys who he would like to be in his schoolroom with him.

However, his aunt Katherine, the Queen, was there. To his horror, their topic of conversation was the exact thing he wanted to avoid.

"Did you have Henry remove Mistress Seymour from your ladies?" Katherine asked his mama, as soon as he was walking in. Hal didn't want to be announced, he want to hear his mama's response, so he snuck into his mama's outer chamber, hoping he wouldn't be noticed.

"No. He has assured me that he is not going to continue his affairs, at all. I still have not found her a suitable husband, although I have a few to consider. But Elizabeth made Henry promise to stay faithful to me, and you know both of our husbands are with their mother," Anne explained, glad that she and Katherine were finally so familiar with each other. She had always dreamed of having a close relationship with her sister-in-laws, so after Mary died, she panicked that she would be alone once Elizabeth left this earth. However, Elizabeth thrived and Katherine had become close to her, and had helped her so much.

Hal was noticed as soon as Anne had finished her sentence, and one of Anne's ladies-in-waiting ushered him into her private chamber. "Your majesty, your grace," Hal stumbled two clumsy bows towards his aunt and mother, knowing that when the Queen was in attendance he couldn't be so informal. His governess and tutors had taught him otherwise. He had overheard rumors that the Queen disapproved of his presence there, but that was a while ago. Every time she came to visit, she was polite enough, but Hal couldn't help but notice that there was something always sad about the lady, especially as of late. He had heard the King was ill, but nothing else had changed lately around Hampton, so he assumed that he had recovered.

"Hal, darling, I am so happy you have come. I fear it has been far too long," Anne smiled, setting down her needlework and rushing to greet her son. It was hard not having him in the nursery anymore, and he had been so busy with lessons, that she did not see him or Lisbeth everyday like she used to be accustomed to. It was hard, but her children were growing up and she knew that she was luckier than most royal mothers. She had four healthy children who were living in the same palace as her.

"Anne, I am must head back to Whitehall. I shall give you and Lord Hal some privacy. Good day, my lord," Katherine acknowledged the little boy, noting how much he favored his father. If they had sent him away like she had wanted all those years ago, nobody would be able to deny that he was Henry's bastard. She knew that it had all worked out for the best, and she was happy that Arthur had denied her hysterical request. Hal was content with Anne and his family, even starting to accept his bastard status more, considering how well his parents treated him. At the thought of what almost happened she knelt done and gave the boy a kiss on the check, before hugging Anne and promising that she would see her soon.

"What is it that you needed to talk to me about, mother?" Hal asked, smiling sweetly at his mama.

"I just wanted to know if you were enjoying eating dinner with your papa, since I haven't been able to attend the past few nights," Anne began.

Hal paused, the fear on his face clear. Before Anne could speak, his words just spilled out, without him stopping, "I don't know who she is mama! I am sure they are just friends! I am sure papa loves you very much you are so perfect," Hal spurted, slapping his chubby hand over his mouth once he realized what he had said. He felt like a fool. He knew she hadn't even mentioned anything related to what he had sputtered out, but he knew that it was on her mind, after the Queen had talked to her about it. It seemed like she was prying for information, but now that he had said it, he knew he was mistaken.

Anne's heart sunk, but she kept a pleasant façade for the sake of her son. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She had suspected it for a few weeks, once Henry stopped coming to her bed at all at night. She told herself it was simply because he didn't want to be tempted by her when he was feeling randy during the night, that he was doing it for her safety. She knew that when men wanted to stay faithful to their wife but they had urges that they satisfied themselves… she had heard her brother do it while they were still at Hever Castle. She was not so naïve to the ways of men. She had never thought that Henry would ever break his promise to his mother.

He had been so good! Their family had been so perfect. He visited the children so much more than he did while she was pregnant with William, and ate at least once meal with her daily. She had foolishly thought that because Elizabeth had spoken to Henry about it, that he would stop seeing Jane. That she wouldn't have to send her away. She didn't want to deal with the Seymour family being upset with her or Henry, since she was aware that they needed allies and people at their court. She would hate to be known as a cruel mistress to her ladies, she didn't want people to stop sending their daughters to her or for her to gain a negative reputation.

They still couldn't sleep together. She knew, that if they could, that Jane wouldn't be around. She didn't want to accept it, it hurt too much, but what else could she do? She felt trapped, and even while she was pregnant with William, she didn't feel this helpless. No matter what she did or said, it would upset Henry. He would say that he was doing it for her, not for himself.

She should be happy that it wasn't like it was before, that he was more committed to her than he was before. There was no emotional adultery, or she thought. She couldn't see Henry making promises to her in the middle of the night. Jane was just his whore, nothing else was going on. She was in no danger of being set aside. So why did it hurt so much?

She had to say something. She mustered the courage to speak, even though it came out weakly, "Hal, don't trouble yourself with these problems. You just focus on your studies and on pleasing your father. That is all I want from you, son," Anne explained, kissing his forehead. She carried on a conversation for a few more minutes with him, asking him the things she had intended to, and then ushered him away without seeming too overeager. Hal was a fragile boy and it would just make her feel worse than she already did if she caused him any further pain.

He seemed contented enough, and once he left, Anne had time to think. Katherine was gone. She felt bad waking Elizabeth. She couldn't confide in any of her ladies, they would never understand. It wasn't the first time that she missed her sister, but it was the worst kind of hole. The only person she could reasonably consult was her brother, and she felt so alone that she had to, or else she would storm into Henry's room and rage against him, making things far worse.

George's rooms were a short walk from her rooms, and she felt so overwhelmed that she nearly ran. She could hear her ladies footsteps pattering behind her, frantically. She didn't even bother knocking, but in hindsight, she wished she had. It could have made this unpleasant night a little less so.

Mark Smeaton was on his way out of her brother's chambers, and seemed thrown by seeing her there, as if he had a right to be baffled by her presence! "Your grace," the musician charmingly stated, bowing slightly and looking rightly abashed.

Anne just let him go. There was no point in stopping him, the real problem was with her brother. Why on earth would he have a musician playing for him privately, at night? It was not yet late night, but it was late enough where visitors stopped being so frequent. It looked bad for the brother-in-law of the Duke of York to be entertaining men at such an hour. Questions would be asked. Assumptions would be made. Anne didn't need to deal with this at the moment, but it had to be done. She stifled a sigh at the thought of more issues in her life.

"Anne! What are you doing here?" George asked, looking completely shocked. He had enough grace to give her a hug and kiss, but he looked flustered.

"I wanted to come talk to you about my marriage, but now I see we have other things to discuss." Anne wasted no time. The sooner this was over, the better. She wanted comfort, but it seemed like she wasn't going to get that tonight. She cursed herself for feeling weak enough to come here. She should have just gone to see her daughter and went to bed, that would have made her feel better than this.

"I know it looks bad, but I just need the company. Jane is in the country, I just wanted to hear a little bit of music before I went to bed," George lied with a smile. His sister adored him, she had no reason to distrust him. But Anne was smart enough to put the pieces together. She had lived in France, where behavior like his was more commonplace. He just prayed to God that she would never, ever, suspect anything.

"You can't have him over so late anymore, regardless of the reason. It reflects poorly on our family. Do you know how many people already think that I am unworthy of the title Duchess of York?" Anne couldn't help her anger. She loved her brother but after what Mary had done behind her back, she felt herself growing more and more frustrated with her siblings.

"Anne, I am so sorry if I did anything to offend you. I will behave with more dignity from now on, that befits my royal status," George half-joked, yet Anne's face clearly revealed that she was charmed and relieved by his statement. George would have to be more careful from now on, something he was willing to do to keep Mark.

"Good. I am sorry to be so serious, it's been so long and here I am, barking orders at you," Anne giggled, feeling lighter already. "I need your help. I didn't know who else to go to. Henry has started to see Jane Seymour again…" she was cut off.

"You must do nothing. Father will dislike any sort of meddling in Henry's affairs," George quickly stated before she could continue. His father had already briefed him about what he was supposed to say to her if she came to him with this problem. He felt far sorrier for his sister than his father clearly did, but there was nothing he could do. It was for the best interests of the whole Boleyn family if she didn't upset Henry in any way, and just focused on raising her children and grooming them on royal protocol.

"How can I do nothing?" It came out so fast, but she knew it was true. The idea of allowing her husband to carry on an affair seemed impossible. Her silence would be like her consent. Katherine would never have allowed Arthur to act this way, wasn't she supposed to be learning how to be the future Queen of England?

"Be a good mother to your children. Be a good wife to Henry. Your ban will be over soon and you can marry Jane away to a man with no ambition, but with some sort of title. Everybody wins. You must know this is how it works, Anne?" George tenderly stated, happy that he was the one to break this difficult advice to her. He rubbed her check and kissed her forehead. "Be of good cheer. You have given birth to a son, Edward, who will be the King of England. The future is yours. You just must endure this difficultly, and everything will be perfect."

Anne forced a smile, knowing she would never receive what she wanted to hear from her brother. She would tell him what he, and everybody else she knew, wanted to hear. "Of course. We are on the edge of a golden world," Anne happily crowed, almost believing herself.

On the walk back, she contained her tears. She sent somebody to summon Henry to her bed, so he may hold her. She wasn't going to even mention this whole sordid business with him. Her lady came back with regrets, saying that the grooms had turned her away because 'his grace was already asleep.' She spent the whole night crying. In the morning, she put on a smile and ate breakfast with her whole entire family, including her husband. She promptly vomited it as soon as everybody had left.

They were on the edge of an abyss, but it wasn't golden.

_I literally feel like I have been writing this chapter forever. It is now 3:37 AM in Michigan and here it is. I hope everybody enjoyed it, and I do promise that the next one will not take ten months to get to you guys! In the meantime, please review :) Until next time…_


	42. Chapter Forty Two

**Author's Note: **I would like to start off again with issuing another apology. I cannot do it enough. For all of you reading this chapter, especially those of you who have been reading this story when I started it nearly four years ago, thank you so much for your patience. I've had writer's block, as well as just a slew of other things. I had a very stressful job and credit load this year in college, and then this summer spend seven weeks outside of the country. I am doing this before I start writing two massive papers on Livy and Dante. So it's not the greatest excuse and I'm sorry for making you wait a year. But I really hope this chapter is worth it, it's honestly one of my favorite ones I've written. **Just a quick warning: mild sexual content and mild violence. **

_Disclaimer_: All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events and are taken only for the purposes of the story. It's very AU. All recognizable characters are a property of Showtime and history. I don't write history, I just mess around with it ;]

Without further ado, here's chapter 42! Please enjoy and don't forget to review :)

* * *

**Whitehall Palace **

_Christmas 1529_

* * *

Anne usually loved Christmas.

Free from the stress of running their own celebrations until they took over official rule, Anne and Henry were able to go to Whitehall and just observe. Anne was certainly used to taking mental notes, as she had started doing it every year since she had become the Duchess of York. Henry often indulged in dancing and drinking more than focusing on royal customs, but as Katherine had said, Anne's job as Queen Consort was to speak for the benefit of the realm and her husband, not to stay silent.

She had stayed silent on one matter, though. She wanted to forget about Henry's terrible affair that he was trying desperately to keep from her, but tonight it was staring her in the face. The Seymours had somehow managed to gain a royal invitation to Christmastide at court, she was sure it was at Henry's bequest, since Katherine and Arthur had brushed Jane away when she tried to present herself to them. They would never seek to make her uncomfortable in any case, but she knew Henry had probably backed King Arthur into a corner.

Jane was dancing with her brother, but her eyes were locked firmly on Henry, who was dancing with his mother, who did little dancing these days, but always made sure to dance with both of her sons at least once when she made public appearances. Henry was not foolish enough to glance brazenly over at Jane, but Anne could still see his eyes wander. She drained her wine cup from her spot on the dais as her dark eyes narrowed at the sight of her husband's infidelity.

She motioned for more wine. She intended to get drunk tonight. Tonight was not the night the children were allowed at court, so Anne didn't need to worry about making a poor example in front of them. And all those who would dare judge her, well, she had nothing to fear from anybody anymore. She was securely the Duchess of York, who had given her husband two male heirs. She had done her duty. She didn't give a fig to what they thought of her. Even if Henry no longer cared for her, he could not discard her. She knew that now.

So she could make a drunken fool out of herself and feel numb, maybe just for a night.

Katherine shot her a look of concern as she greedily drank from her third goblet of wine. She managed a smile at the Queen who had once criticized her, but was now one of the few people she could count on. She would not spoil her Christmas, not after all the poor lady had been through. Queen Katherine deserved some pleasure in her life. Anne vowed inwardly not to speak of this to her tonight of all nights.

Elizabeth of York took her seat next to Anne and grasped her hand, forcing Anne to stop staring into the abyss of the wine. "He is still seeing her, isn't he?" They didn't need to say who. Elizabeth was no fool. The disappointment was in her voice but there was nothing to be said. The silence was the unspoken broken promise, and a mother's intense disenchantment with her favorite son.

"Of course. I am unable to do my duty, why shouldn't Mistress Seymour take my place?" Anne replied sarcastically and loudly. She really didn't care anymore, although she thought she may have spoken too loudly, too brazenly for her dignity of her great title and position, how could she care any longer? The wine got to her head, made her feel braver and stronger, as if she was a girl again being courted by the Duke of York. The thought of how they used to be, before children and marriage, when they were just in love, made her seethe with rage. "After all, the lady is buxom as a wife ought to be!"

"Anne," Elizabeth whispered, "I know you are upset but you must keep your voice down. This is not how a Queen acts in public, and especially not on Christmas." Elizabeth knew this was hard for her, but she had suffered too under a husband whom she had no say in marrying, though the suffering was different but equally painful. Anne and Henry were not forced into marriage, they choose each other over all of the rest of the highborn ladies who would have gladly married into the royal family even before Henry was the heir- and Anne was beautiful and part of a rising family who was in favor at court. They had their pick, and they choose each other, at great risk to their reputations.

To her, Anne was legitimate in her grievances. She would never argue otherwise, and she was gravely disappointed in her son's actions. But making public displays out of her displeasure would only make matters worse. As much as it pained her, and she would never approve or encourage this practice with either of her sons, it was Henry's right to take a mistress. No wife was supposed to chide him for this, or if she did, it was supposed to be in private. For Anne, she was not just a typical jealous wife, she was a public figure. Her and Henry would lead the next generation of courtiers, and were supposed to set an example of virtue for all of the country to follow. Anne reprimanding Henry in public would lead to reports of Henry being a weaker ruler, prone to the wills of women.

After all, it had almost happened to Arthur, and Katherine was no Anne.

Regardless of Katherine's considerable influence, nobody in the public was supposed to be aware of any of it. Arthur kept a great example by never having a mistress, but even if he had, Elizabeth was confident Katherine would have held her peace and suffered in silence, as much as a woman of her great dignity could in private. But never would the daughter of Isabella and Ferdinand publically suggest that her husband lacked morals. Nevertheless, any whiff of control being handed over to Katherine, and the court flocked around rumors that the King's health was failing, that he was cuckolded, or that he lacked the fortitude to rule them properly, so they would have a foreign queen deciding English affairs.

Katherine was a rare public figure in many respects, but if this is what could come of a woman trying to have a say openly in her husband's reign, Anne needed to take notice and never be part of the reason Henry would be undermined. Others would bring him down for other reasons, the last thing he needed was the reputation that he was weak. Anne's best bet was the pull the strings attached to Henry, and not bind them to each other.

She would hear Anne after the celebrations, but not a minute before, and certainly not so the whole entire court could hear!

"Am I to be Queen, or is Jane to be Queen?" Anne sneered, but took care to say it quietly. She knew she was being absurd, but she did not feel comfortable here. She wanted to go back and hug her daughter and pretend like she had never come here. Instead, she drank more wine, because she knew she had to be there. She knew she had to watch Henry flirt with another woman and pretend like she was not there. Consciously, she placed a hand over her stomach, and frowned at the excess skin still lingering there, which could not be completely hidden even with a tight corset.

"Anne…" Elizabeth began, but at the look of regret and sadness on Anne's face, she grabbed her hand and squeezed it as hard as she could under the table. At that act of kindness, and the fact that Elizabeth was really the only mother she had known because her mother was so lost to her memories now, she felt tears struggle in her eyes. She fought them back though because it was not proper to cry. Looking over at Katherine, who had been through so much hardship in her entire life, so much that Anne could not even imagine bearing, she knew a Queen of England could never cry in public. "You must be strong, for your children and for yourself," Elizabeth finished, squeezing it a bit more.

"I know," Anne weakly responded, setting the wine down. "I cannot let this defeat me. The ban is near ended."

Elizabeth did not want to even suggest the idea that perhaps Henry's affair with Jane Seymour would last longer than their relations ban. She did not want to point out that Henry could reasonably find any excuse to continue his affair longer than it ever needed to be. She did not have the heart to tell Anne that even after Jane left, Henry could take another mistress, father another bastard, make her life more miserable. Instead, she forced herself to be optimistic, to remember that Henry did truly love his wife, and if he saw how much it hurt her, it would not come to what she feared.

"I will pray every night that the Lord restores your marriage to what it was meant to be, my dear daughter," Elizabeth vowed, kissing Anne's hand. Anne looked at her with eyes glazed over in shock at her vehemence, but simply smiled. There was something in her eyes that Elizabeth had seen before but not for a long time, a burning desire and ambition.

Anne put on a brave face for the rest of the night, danced with everybody into the morning as if she were a young single maiden again, and vowed to get her husband back, as she could not count on her dear mother in law's prayers alone.

* * *

The next night people had presented gifts during the day, and so at night Anne invited Henry to dine with her, alone.

She dismissed all of her ladies after they put her in her finest gown and finest jewelry, the pieces that Elizabeth had given her when she got married, and she applied her own makeup. She left her hair down, had no headdress. If Henry wanted something different, he was not going to see the wife that was paraded through court and had given birth to his children, he was going to see Anne before they got married; the young virginal women who had captivated him from the moment he saw her during the Emperor's envoys visits. She wanted to remind him when he had truly begun to see her as more than just George Boleyn's sister, or the silly girl who fell in the pond when they were children. They had a history beyond their recent past, the past that had made Anne doubt who she was. She had lost her confidence, had lost touch with the women who waited to marry the richest man and the soon to be most powerful man in England. They had defied odds to be together because they loved each other, and she hated herself for losing sight of who she used to be.

Not anymore. She was the future Queen of England, a commoner raised to the Duchess of York, the mother of the future King of England; a woman educated in the French courts and fluent in more than one language. She had seduced a man once destined for the church, made him marry her instead of simply take her to bed and forget her. She was not a woman to be outdone by Jane Seymour. She was the wife of Henry, not contented to wait around for some ban to expire.

It was folly and perhaps she had drank too much wine, but she thought one night with her husband, to remind him of what he was missing, would not doom her body to infertility or kill her. Her children were so beautiful during the Christmas celebrations; it reminded her of the family that they used to have, when Henry's eyes were focused on her and her children. She would always have their love, no matter what their father did, but the thought of not having the family that she had grown so accustomed to having, the loving and caring one so unlike the one of her childhood, made her heart break.

She found strength in Elizabeth's comfort, her motherly affection and love the night before, when she kissed her hand as if she was truly her natural daughter, not just a women she had come to love as such. Elizabeth's daughters had been taken from her for some time, and her sons' wives was going to stay around, so it was only natural that she form some sort of affection towards her and Katherine. Even so, she was constantly amazed at the older woman's charity, but her words last night made her stop her sulking and realize that she had to win Henry back, instead of walking around miserable, going through the motions of court that she used to enjoy. She could not wait around for hers and Elizabeth's prayers to be answered. She was never that type of women.

She had always found strength in her happiness, feigned or real. It was the reason her father was hardly ever cross with her when she was a child, and it was the reason that Henry first fell in love with her. William's gestation and birth had made her dull and grey, and Henry's continued betrayal was sending her into a pit of despair she had never felt before in her life, not even when her mother died. Arthur loved his queen despite her sadness, but she knew Henry was not the same man as his brother. He would not love her if she could not keep up with him.

She had no fear of being set aside, but she would not doom herself and her children into an unhappy family.

A knock at the door drew her from her thoughts, and since she was alone, she straightened her back and walked towards the door, looking once more at her mirror before opening the door wide, with a seductive and impish smile.

"Anne," Henry breathed, seemingly shocked. Anne pulled him inside and kissed him, infused with the passion that she had kept buried for over a year. Their life behind closed doors and beneath the sheets had never been dull, and she hoped that maybe this would remind him of what he was missing with the insipid country whore. Anne had never doubted her ability to make Henry happy when she could be a full wife to him, despite her other insecurities. She was willing to sacrifice her own health to make him happy once again, because she knew that would make her life so much better.

Through the thick fabric of her dress she could feel Henry's hardness press against her thigh, and she felt a thrill shiver up her spine, relieved that it was working the way that she had wanted it to. To her surprised, he broke the kiss and moved away, his face shamed and guiltily. "Henry," she purred, grabbing his hand. She felt pure pain move through her rib cage and into her heart when he pulled away his hand sharply.

"What are you trying to do, Anne? We can't do this, not until March," Henry protested, but his voice was restrained yet soft. She could recognize the huskiness.

Anne smirked yet again, not willing to give up, yet still touched by his affection for her, enough to not want to harm her. But she was determined to have him her bed tonight, to stay the whole night without sneaking off to be with Jane. She did not want him to do that, not in Whitehall especially, in plain sight of the most prominent people in England. She would do it every night the rest of their stay if she had to, but she thought that one night to remind him how good things could have been with his wife, would be enough to bring him back to her and to their children.

"Henry, I need you, I want you so badly I cannot wait any longer. I want you tonight," she replied. She wanted him to have flashbacks to their wedding night, when he hesitated because he did not want to hurt his maiden bride. She told him he could not wait any longer, and his fear and guilt went away. If she could only do that again! She moved closer to him and ran her fingers gently through his hair, and then tugged his face towards hers, so he had to meet her eyes. She pressed her lips to his ear and whispered, "Just one night, my husband and lord, I can be yours. It is safe tonight and your wife _needs_ you."

She could not be sure if she was not going to conceive, no woman could be. Yet, her courses had just come and went in the past week, and it was unlikely that she was fertile. Even so, Linacre had said that a having a baby a year after William's birth would be dangerous, and if she conceived tonight it would not be a year, just a bit over. Still, they were supposed to wait three more months, but she had to do something, it is not like he would ever understand. He never would have to be in the position she was in.

"I cannot lose you, I thought I had lost you when you were birthing William, and I won't… I can't, I'm sorry," he pushed her away, and although she could see his desire still, his face and words left no room for argument. He was pained, and while she wanted to feel honored, all she felt was rage.

It was not as if she did not understand his fears and concerns. Arthur had confided in Katherine what had happened while she was bringing William into the world, and so Katherine had told her. Henry feared for her life, Linacre thought that she was going to die and William with her, and perhaps one of them could have been saved for the life of the other. Anne would have gladly given her life for William, as she would for any of her children, but she was not sure the choice Henry would have made. Katherine had told her that apparently Henry had retreated in a corner, silent, for many hours and wept openly when it was revealed she was going to survive and their newborn son with her.

She was touched by the story at the time, and in the back of her mind his love and deep affection was more important than any sort of sexual relationship, but she was so frustrated and afraid that all she could do was fight for it. Fighting back tears, she grew angry. "Don't do this to me," she threatened, more fiercely and loudly than she intended.

"To you? I'm doing this for you!" he argued, confused. Henry did not understand the sudden desire for their marriage bed. He knew that she was lonely, his mother never failed to remind him to spend more time with his wife and children, but Anne had never expressed a desire to break the ban until tonight. He thought that she wanted to keep herself safe, so they could have more children and be together without fear. He knew that women too had desires, not equal to a man's, but he knew Anne probably missed his company as much as he missed hers before he found other ways to content himself.

He felt himself attracted to her again, for the first time since she had William did she look the way that he always remembered, but he could not falter, not when he did not need her company in any case. He could wait until March, now that Jane had returned to his bed and was pleasing him enough. Jane was so young, so fresh and innocent, and she would come to him as long and as much as he wanted. Whatever guilt he was supposed to feel had went away when he knew that if he did not have Jane, Anne would be in danger. Anne needed him to have a mistress just as much as he needed one. She would not see things this way, so for her sake he was discreet, keeping Jane in her household and talking about marriage prospects with Arthur.

His brother had not been the most likely choice for a confidante, but his power as King was proving useful. Henry had turned to him when Charles Brandon was not invited to Whitehall for Privy Council meetings and Henry was beginning to feel pressure to attend. Arthur had been ill recently, and so Henry had often felt obligated for the more important people to see and respect their future King, so they would not find him young and inexperienced. The Queen still irritated him; as she always had, but her ability to run meetings when Arthur was too ill to attend had allowed him to observe instead of make countless mistakes.

Arthur did not understand his need for Jane, not when he never even considered straying from his _beloved _Katherine, but Henry did not need him to understand. He needed him to find Jane a husband, and so far the search had not been fruitful. Henry had an idea, one that would ennoble Charles Brandon and get Jane off his hands when March came around and being with Jane would be a threat to his marriage and to her own health. The duchy of Suffolk had been vacant since their father executed the last one, and Arthur had never bothered to fill it. He was very prudent with titles, as their father was, he did not want too many people to have too much power.

It was not the type of kingship Henry intended to have; it did not make Arthur many loyal friends, only a few men who wanted to be close to the King for riches and power, but they would soon learn they'd never get a title. In any case, regardless of Arthur's erroneous strategy, he intended to secure Charles Brandon as Earl of Suffolk, since Arthur would never make Brandon a Duke. He had never quite forgiven Mary and Charles for betraying his much needed alliance, and it would be hard to get him to even do this. But Henry had already promised Charles that he would make him a Duke once he became King, and it would be a better match than the Seymours would have dreamt of before they allowed him to have Jane. He intended to do right by her, and he needed Arthur's help, as long as his brother was still King.

If Anne were not so temperamental and prone to jealousy, he would have been able to carry it on longer, perhaps until he became King. But keeping her at bay was hard enough already, he had to Jane get married away, and Brandon needed a wife, a mother to his children and perhaps to even have more with Jane, who would make a wonderful wife to any man willing. It was a perfect plan, as long as Arthur agreed. As of late, his brother had been a true friend to him, or at least was trying to heal the wounds of their rivalry. Henry was confident he would do him this favor, to clear his hands of the women who had made him happy when his wife was unable to.

Anne's voice had startled him and jolted him from his confusion, it was fierce and unforgiving, and her words even more so. "How dare you lie to me? This is not for me and we both know it. It is a convenient excuse for you to go back to your whore!" Anne accused. She had not intended on opening up this conversation again with Henry, she wanted to simply forget about it. But it was clear to her that his excuse about her health was simply that, an excuse for him to continue to betray his lawful wife for a girl who offered him no challenge. If he was going to deny her the chance to make him happy, then he would hear how she felt about it.

"I have no idea what you are accusing me of. I have spent less time with you for your safety, but I assure you, I have no whore," Henry evenly explained. It was true, Jane was no whore, and she was an honest woman, who had come to him a pure maiden. As far as Henry was concerned, Jane was doing Anne a service. Anne had a fierce temperament and a sharp mind, and so Henry should have known that it would only be a matter of time before his relationship with Jane was uncovered, but even so, Anne was drawn to fits of paranoia, she had been in the early days of their marriage and even before then, when her service to the Queen was strained due to her relationship with him. If he denied it vehemently, there would be a chance still that she would not know if it.

It is not as if he carried it in plain sight of her. Perhaps in front of the rest of his court, but they had no reason to tell Anne, knowing that it would only upset her more and put themselves in disfavor with him. Anne did not have the power base that Katherine did; she had no strong allies who would make his life hard if he had a mistress that his wife disapproved of. It is not as if he was unfaithful, Anne was and always would be his wife, and if there was a threat to her safety and if the Seymours were plotting any misdeeds, he would be the first to see to it that they were executed for treason. But he would not be reproached by her. It was his job to keep her and their children healthy and safe, and to love her, and he still did.

What did she want from him? It had been nearly a year since they had lain together. He knew it was not her fault, and he did not mean it as a punishment. She had been in every way the perfect wife to him. But he was allowed to take a mistress when his wife could not perform her duties. Surely Anne was not so naïve to these ideas.

"No! You will not tell me, your lawful wife, these falsehoods any longer. I am not blind Henry, I saw it last night, the way your eyes followed her. Hal saw it too, saw you leave with her," Anne replied, with a calm threatening tone that was more concerning than her previous fit of anger.

"Hal is but a child Anne…." He began, but she quickly cut him off.

"No matter about him then. She is never around anymore, or did you forget that she was also in my household? You never come to bed; you leave right after supper and never return. I have gone to your rooms in the morning and the guards will not admit me. I am not a fool, my love," she retorted. She would not see here and believe his denials, as much as she wanted to. She wanted it to be false, she wanted the rumors to be untrue, but she would not be fooled by her own pain and love for him. But she would not lie to herself, to doom herself to misery when she used to be so happy.

Henry felt something snap deep inside of him. She had no right to do this to him, when he was doing this for her. He kept his voice calm, but chose his words carefully. "Listen to me then. You are where you are because of me. You will sit idly by as a fuck whoever I want because you are my wife, not my consular or chaplain. I will not hear your accusations when I have given you everything I am supposed to as your husband. You will not bring this up again, or else you will not have my love any longer."

The tears Anne had been holding in the entire time came out, quietly at first, but then she felt the same rage build up. How dare he speak to her that way! She had given him three children, raised his bastard, sat by him during royal events, overseen his court, and done everything and more as his wife. His words stung more than his betrayal of their vows.

"How could say that to me? When we were first to be married, you told me, you _promised _me I would always have your love, and that I could always speak freely in front of you! You have broken every promise you have ever made to me," she cried out, the pain in her voice evident. Perhaps it was an overstatement, but she could not handle the stab of pain right in her stomach that she felt when he told she could lose his love.

It was the one constant she had thought in her life, his love. Her father used her, her sister betrayed her, her brother had no care for her like he used to , her mother was long dead, and her mother and sister-in-law loved her but they did not know her. It was Henry who always truly knew her, who she could once share everything with. She would not beg for his love, but that's all she wanted to do.

"I have not broken any promises to you! I am the Duke of York, when my wife cannot perform her duties; it is my right to take a mistress! I will not be reproached by you when you clearly do not understand that what I do I do out of love for you!" When she did not respond, when her tears overtook her voice, he felt a measure of sympathy, but he knew what she was doing. She was trying to get him to remember an old promise he had made to her, and manipulate him into stopping his affair.

"_I hate the sound of your tears, my love." It was after Lisbeth's birth, her father's words had stung her, and after assuring her that he would never be angry at her for such a thing she could not control, she was still hurt. It broke his heart that his wife and only love would have to suffer such pain, after learning the truth of the nature about her father. He cupped her head in his hands, gently rubbing her hair. She sighed and closed her eyes. "You do not need such a man in your life."_

"_He is my father, Henry. I love him despite everything," she choked out, her tears still obscuring her face. "It pains me that he does not love his granddaughter, and he does not love me like he used to. When I was a child I could do no wrong, and now…" her voice trailed off, yet again swallowed by her sorrow. _

"_Shh, my darling, it is alright, everything is going to be alright," he soothed her as if she was an upset child, rocking her back and forth in his arms. She was only seventeen; it was hard to remember sometimes, but at this weak moment she looked and acted her age. _

_After a few more moments had passed, she quieted down and kissed him tenderly. "I love you so much," she whispered, clasping his arms in desperation. _

"_I love you too, my queen," he responded, and she smiled that brilliant true smile he had made him truly fall in love with her, not the one that she put on when she was afraid or sad. "And I vow to you, if I ever make you weep as much as your father has tonight, that I will stop whatever it is that could cause you so much pain, and make it better immediately." _

He had not forgotten, and he imagined she had not either. He knew he should stop it with Jane if it was causing her this much pain, but the thought angered him too much. He had always done with he wanted. Anne had loved that about him, and he would not change, not even for her. It was his right now to be his own man. He had too hard fought to get his own independence to forfeit it to his wife.

She straightened her back and looked back up at him, her eyes bloodshot with the tears that he had once vowed to stop. Her last attempt at not worked, her heart broke with the realization that the man before her was not the same man she had married. She felt her blood run cold, and she was not even thinking when she muttered her next words, "You will be King someday, my dear Duke, but they will never love you as they loved your brother. He will always be a better man than you."

She saw Henry raise his hand, but she did not move like she knew she should have. She would not cower before him. She felt the slap burn hot on her face, and her head turned involuntarily. She put her hand to her face and turned back to face him, her nose already running with blood. The anger had drained from his face, what was left was guilt and horror. She moved her mouth to speak, but then she saw the worst sight that she could have imagined beyond her husband's shoulder.

"Mama?" Elizabeth's voice was weak and fragile, like Anne felt. She saw Henry whip his head around quicker than she had ever seen.

Forgoing her own pain, Anne ran over to her daughter, and gave Henry a glare when he tried to follow her. The last thing her daughter needed was the father she had always admired to sputter out some weak excuse to why he had struck his wife and her mother. "My darling girl, why are you awake? It is late, my love, you should be in bed," she explained, rubbing her shoulders. Her daughter's blue eyes were wide with fear and confusion, and she knew that acting normal would not help or make her observant four year old forget what she had witnessed.

"I was scared, I heard a noise outside and this place isn't the same as home," she answered, and then questioned immediately, "Why did papa hit you, mama?" she asked. To the little girl's credit, she did not jump to any conclusions, and looked at Henry with the same wide eyed stare that she was giving to Anne.

Henry covered his mouth and muttered, "Oh god what have I done?" His thoughts ran back to when he was his daughter's age, when he had seen his grandmother strike his own mother. The rage he felt stayed with him, bitter until the old woman died. Even still, he did not think fondly on his grandmother, even when she left him money and titles. Anne was not as blameless as his mother had been, but he should not have struck her. A true lord never hits a woman; Lancelot would have never struck Guinevere. His father, for all of his anger, never hit his mother and Arthur never would have dared lay a hand on his wife.

The words he had struck Anne for had never been truer. And now his daughter would never look at him the same way because she had seen him commit the worst crime that a husband could do to his wife, the only woman he had ever loved.

Anne ignored Henry, allowing him to sulk in his own guilt, as he ought to. Her daughter was her priority. Thankfully, Elizabeth of York was housed next door, and although she felt bad for waking the poor woman at this hour, she did not think she could handle little Lisbeth sharing a bed with her tonight, as she sometimes would do at Hampton when she was frightened. She also did not want to run to her like some frightened little girl, just struck by a man larger than her, or to make Henry look bad before his mother, but she had to do something.

"Come with me darling, I will take to your grandmama's and you will stay in their tonight, ok?" She held out her hand and thankfully Lisbeth took it without any further questions, though Anne felt a twinge of guilt for not addressing the situation. Her nose was still bleeding, and she saw a drop of it land squarely on her gown, the gown she had hoped to seduce her husband in. Ignoring that thought, so she would not cry in front of her daughter, she left her room and walked little Lisbeth to the next set of rooms.

She stood still for a moment and composed her thoughts. She had no idea what she would say to her mother-in-law, the only woman whose opinion that Henry truly listened to. Her mind was clouded with pain and she put her hand to her cheek and noticed that it was burning red, and she had bitten her tongue, so her mouth tasted like blood. She wanted to cry, she never thought she would ever suffer so much pain at the man she loved so much.

It was the largest test she had ever faced, and it took everything she had not to leave Lisbeth at the door and run to her brother. But she knew nobody could protect her, not now.

She was truly alone; she could not fake happiness at the feeling.

* * *

Elizabeth's lady squealed when she Anne entered without knocking, but she did not care what other ladies would say about her appearance. Surely questions would be asked if she appeared in court the next day with a bruised face, but she did not dwell on that. The safest place for Lisbeth was here, and here she would be.

She entered Elizabeth's private chamber and was horrified when Katherine and Arthur were there too, quietly talking. She realized they had probably heard parts of their fight, and the three of them quickly turned around when one of the ladies hurriedly announced her and Lisbeth. Katherine and Arthur cried out with worry and sympathy, and Elizabeth quickly set down her book and ran to Anne. "What on earth has happened?" she asked.

Anne shook her head and gestured to her daughter, still looking like she had back in Anne's rooms. Elizabeth's face registered, and there was a look of pure pain and disappointment etched across it. She never would have thought that the relationship between her son and his wife would have gotten to the point where he would dare hit his lady, but she could not say she was shocked. Henry's temper had gotten worse as he had gotten older, and she had always feared that Anne's sharp words would someday make him do something she was confident he would regret. Elizabeth tried to open her mouth to say something encouraging, but nothing would come out.

Katherine recognized the situation and quickly thought of a remedy. "My dear little Elizabeth, how would you like to stay in the nursery with your cousins and brothers tonight?" Katherine asked gently. She would have the girl stay in her rooms tonight, as she had not had a little girl's company since her daughter's death, but she did not want to leave Anne, and she did not want to leave and risk running into Henry, in fear that she would chastise him into the morning.

Anne had told her how Lisbeth still had nightmares, and Anne had allowed her to stay in her rooms when those happened, something that Katherine never would have done or had the luxury to do, but Anne was a true mother to her daughter that Katherine could not judge her for it. She knew that Lisbeth would not want to be alone tonight of all nights, and she thought that even though Lisbeth had been given her own rooms for their stay at Whitehall, that there would be enough room in the nursery for her.

Luckily, Lisbeth nodded and did not insist on staying with her mother. Anne gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and told her not to worry, and one of Elizabeth's ladies took her hand and walked her to the nursery. Once Lisbeth was safely out of earshot, Anne let out an ear piercing cry and sunk into Elizabeth's arms.

Katherine reached for Arthur's hand and squeezed much harder than intended. Her anger had never been this intense towards her brother-in-law. He had always been selfish and brutish, but she never would have thought he would hit his wife, in front of his daughter of all people! Considering how defensive Henry had always been of his own mother, and the abuse she suffered, Katherine never would have thought that Henry would be the one to strike the women he had defied her to marry. And to do it in front of his own daughter!

"I ought to kill him," Arthur whispered quietly, but loud enough for Katherine to hear. She was shocked to hear him speak so vehemently, especially when his family had done something he disliked in the past, he had been the first defend them and advocate for merciful measures. But she quickly remembered that Arthur loved Anne like a sister, and loved her children as if they were his own. He had tears in his eyes when he turned to her. "I do not know what kind of King I am leaving. What kind of man hits his own wife?"

Katherine wanted to say that plenty of men hit their wives. She had seen many of her mother's ladies, and her own, with bruises and welts from their husbands and fathers. In Spain, and in England, she had encountered women from all stations of life who bore stories and scars of abusive fathers or husbands. It was a man's right; there was no law to protect them from it. Even her own mother, stronger than any man she had known, had been struck by her father on a number of occasions, when she said something or did something her father disliked. Her mother had never told her to expect it, but she never had to. Katherine had learned it on her own.

But Arthur was different, and so was old King Henry. For two generations there had been monarchs would never dare to strike their wives, or to cheat on them. Arthur had never even come close to leaving the mark that Henry had left on Anne, although sometimes they would have a passionate night in bed and she would wake up with bruises, but he bore similar ones. He had never glanced at another woman in court, and she never needed to fear if he came back late at night. There's was always a true partnership, but Katherine had always known it was the exception and not the rule to marriage. Although her father-in-law punished Margaret Beaufort for striking his queen, and never did do it himself, they did not have a partnership.

Arthur knew that, knew that he had given allowances to Katherine that no Queen ever had before, including his own mother; but he did not seem to realize that women were the utter property of their husbands. His father treated Elizabeth like property, but never did abuse her. Katherine never felt the yoke, and she knew Anne never did either until this moment. But her husband seemed shocked that this was something that men could do. There was no vengeance required because he did nothing wrong. Perhaps he had broken the law of chivalry, which was a code that Arthur and his father had always followed, and Henry had always fancied himself a knight from the time he was a boy, so Katherine was shocked, but knew that there was nothing they could reasonably do.

All they could do is sternly reprimand him, which was something everybody wanted to do. But Arthur's words surprised her. Kill his brother for striking his wife? She had never felt so proud to call Arthur her husband. She leaned into his shoulder and rubbed his hair, trying to calm him. "My love, your brother has always been reckless and careless. You cannot punish him for he committed no crime. He has only hurt himself, and we will make him regret it, if he does not already," Katherine promised.

Anne's tears were too distracting to continue their conversation, so Katherine moved over to her and stroked her hair as Elizabeth held her. After what seemed like hours, but Katherine knew was only minutes, her crying ceased and she looked at all of them with the saddest eyes Katherine had ever seen the young woman hold. She had always seemed so happy, but this was not her. This was a broken wife, a broken woman who felt like she had lost everything. Katherine knew the feeling, but Anne clearly did not.

Arthur was the first to speak, clearing his throat. "With your permission, my dear sister, I will go and speak to my brother and tell him this is not how a King behaves," Arthur stated, looking and feeling more like a King than he had in years. He would not tolerate his heir striking his wife, the mother of his children. That is not how men of the Tudor dynasty behaved. They were supposed to be above the rabble that abused their wives and daughters. After everything their mother went through, and after the example he had tried to set, following some of the example of his father, he was highly disappointed and hurt by his actions.

To his surprise, his words made her cry more. "He will not listen. Not to those words," Anne choked out. She knew she had crossed an unspoken line that she would not compare him to his father or brother, that nothing bothered him more than that, as he had been in their shadow his whole life. If Henry heard them again, she would not know his wrath.

She kept telling herself this would be a onetime thing, that he would never dare hit her again, and that his face was enough guilt. She had to do that because if he did there would be nothing she could possibly do about it. The look on Katherine and Elizabeth's faces said it all, they had never dealt with it, and they were grateful they never would. She was not afraid of him, but there had been some bond broken forever by his actions. She would never feel welcome enough to confide him, not until he apologized and promised and changed his ways. She had probably gotten her wish, she thought cynically. It was unlikely he would go back to Jane Seymour now, if he was truly as guiltily as he appeared. She knew it was not worth it, to push him to such limits that their marriage would never be the same.

Elizabeth chimed in with agreement. "She is right, Arthur. Henry will not appreciate those words from you." Much as she wanted to tell Henry that Arthur was right, her son had never been one that took advice from his brother or father. He was always his own man, since he was a child, and any attempt to change him or reprimand him would fall on deaf ears. Not even she felt confident enough to advise him, only Anne could, and know Elizabeth wasn't even sure if she would able to. Her son needed to be tamed, but carefully.

"I said something I should not have said. I told him that you were a better man, Arthur, that no man would ever love him as much as they love you. I called him a liar and screamed at him. Now he will never love me again." Anne knew there was truth to her words. It was unlikely that Henry would be as endeared to her as he was before, but she knew before this moment that they had already lost something that they once had. The Henry she married wouldn't have told her that he was carrying on an affair for her own good, for her own safety. He would have never even considered it. He would have never told her that she would have to be content with whatever he did. She never would have insulted him in such a manner if their marriage was the same, and he never would have struck her.

She had already lost him, and what they had. This night made it clear to her that she had simply been in denial. Even before she had been put abed with William, something in him had clearly changed. He had grown tired of her, and once she could not please him, he left her.

"He is a fool, then," Elizabeth sharply replied, unable to believe Anne's estimation. She knew her son had strayed from his marriage bed, and betrayed his wife's trust in more ways than just that, but she knew that Henry loved Anne. That's why he had not followed her when she left. Elizabeth knew he was probably beside himself with shame and guilt, knowing that he would be chided harshly for his actions towards his wife. Elizabeth doubted he would ever do it again, and she was sure he would leave Mistress Seymour now. Her prayers had come true, it would restore their marriage, but Anne would have to forgive and trust Henry again, a tall order for a woman who believed her husband would never cause her so much pain. "He will be begging for your forgiveness, leave Mistress Seymour, and never dare strike you or cause you so much pain again."

Katherine and Arthur looked at her with doubt, but Elizabeth would not answer their glances. She knew her son better than anybody. She saw the way he looked at Anne. He would be heartbroken that he did such a thing to her, and in front of their daughter. Arthur and Katherine both thought Henry was simply reckless, bold, and uncaring. But he had fought hard for his happiness, and he would not tolerate an unhappy wife.

"I will not go back to him on a bended knee though, mother. I will not beg for his love. He has betrayed me and I want him to say it. I want him to tell me he will treat me respect and honor," Anne stated, starting to believe Elizabeth, but not entirely convinced. Surely she knew Henry better than anybody, but she would not bend to his will. She would forgive him and try to mend what has been broken. But she would not be the first one to admit she was wrong. She was not the one who betrayed every vow she ever made to him. She had never vowed to stay silent when she was upset, but he had vowed fidelity and privately vowed never to make her cry like he did, or to strike or harm her.

She was Anne Boleyn, future Queen of England. She could not afford to be weak and cry again in front of the man she wanted a partnership with. If Elizabeth was right, he would come and apologize, but she would not share his bed or meals until he did.

She prayed for God to keep her strong, because her heart ached for him more than her head logically told her to be cold.

_Author's Note: This went in a different direction than I intended, but I really hope you guys liked it and it wasn't too ~dramatic~ for you. This is the climax of the final arc of this story, the next few chapters will be wrapping up this story. Thank you all so much for the support and the massive amount of reviews, I cannot believe I have over 600 and new readers just keep coming! Thank you again for reading, and please don't forget to review, I love hearing your thoughts! _


	43. Chapter Forty Three

**Author's Note**: First of all, thank you to everybody who reviewed last chapter! Well this is the fastest I've gotten an update in a while! This is a long one, my longest yet, so get comfortable :)

_Disclaimer: _All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events and are taken only for the purposes of the story. It's very AU. All recognizable characters are a property of Showtime and history. I don't write history, I just mess around with it ;]

Huge thanks to **ReganX **because without her, this chapter definitely would not have been finished this quickly or this well.

Without further ado, please enjoy and don't forget to review :)

* * *

**Whitehall Palace**

_Christmas Day 1529_

Henry was not a man who enjoyed rising before the sun did.

However, it was not so bad this morning, considering he had not slept after his fight with Anne last night. He left her room after she did, not wanting her to come back and to grow upset with him once more. She probably wanted the night to calm their daughter and collect her thoughts, as he needed time to collect his.

What he did was wrong, there was no denying that.

He could not bring himself to admit that it was wrong of him to lay with Jane for so many months, she was a good mistress to him and he enjoyed her company, as much as a married man was allowed to enjoy another woman's company without equaling his wife. He was always sure that Jane would never usurp Anne's place in his heart. He had fought the Queen to marry her, had waited a long time, and together they had three beautiful children, who would soon become England's princes and princess. No woman he casually took to bed could ever make him feel the same way as Anne did.

He loved her, and did not want to hurt her. He knew that any uncovering of his affair would cause her pain, and as a result he was so careful. He kept Jane amongst Anne's ladies, not freeing up any more of time as to arise suspicion, and never singling her out for any special favor while Anne was in sight, which was easy considering she had taken rest more often after William's birth. He had told Arthur, assured him, that once Anne was herself again it would be no hardship to abandon Jane, and find her a suitable husband. He would never let a woman suffer for becoming his mistress, and he would never forget the promise he made to Anne.

He longed to be man and wife truly again with Anne, and he dreamt of the day that the six month prohibition would be over, and all of their built up passion could be released and he would end the affair with Jane, easily.

When she had tried to seduce him the previous night, looking younger and prettier than she had in a long time, he almost allowed himself to give in. He did not want to lose her though, and he had no need to give in. That was the beauty of having Jane, or so he thought. He did not expect her to be so hurt by his refusal, or to fire the truthful allegations back at him, because he was so sure she did not know. She did not act the way she did while she was pregnant, in fact, in recent days she had seem so very happy, dancing and laughing loudly at the feast just two nights before.

He wondered about bringing Jane along to his brother's court, but he made sure that she was one of Anne's ladies that were allowed to come to Whitehall for Christmas, and he beseeched Arthur to permit her family to come along as well, knowing that it would bring his sweet Jane pleasure to have her father and brothers with her at Christmas. The Seymour family was usually allowed at court anyway for Christmas, as Sir John had some lucrative positions in Arthur's court and served him well. It would look amiss if they were not allowed to come, a passive admission of Henry's lust for their daughter.

He truly did not want to upset Anne, and when he did, he should not have spoken to her as harshly. He should have promised that he would forsake Jane and return to her bed, as she so clearly wanted him to. They would wait to lie together until she was able to bear children again, but he would stop with Jane and reserve his lust for his wife when she was healthy again. At least, that's what Anne would have wanted him to do, as well as entire family, who meddled too much in his marriage for his liking.

He suppressed a frown as his groom dressed him for the day, and he pointedly ignored the man's stifled yawn and tired eyes. He was too preoccupied to scold the man for being tired, his head swimming with thoughts of rage towards his brother, sister-in-law, and even his sweet mother, who could do little to actually anger him. How dare they all suggest that he was not within his rights to take Jane as a mistress? How could they justify publically siding with his wife over him, their heir, at times snubbing him over their worry for Anne? He remembered all of their harsh glances during the feast two nights previous; even before then, when Anne was struggling to bring William into the world, Katherine and his mother looked at him like it was his fault that she was having difficulty!

He knew he should be happy his family had welcomed Anne so warmly, after all, she was not a princess by birth, or even high born. His father and brother had both been fond of Thomas Boleyn, finding him a shrewd diplomatic mind, but he was not a noble born like his brother-in-law, the Duke of Norfolk. Even so, as the future King of England, Henry would have been expected to marry a French Princess, or a Spanish one, to cement an alliance for his family and his country. He chose Anne in spite of that, and he expected his family to treat Anne with respect, but he never thought that they would look at him so distastefully if he showed another lady affection. It was ironic, to say the least, how scornfully Katherine looked at him during the Christmas feast when he had danced with his mother but made no attempt to hide his passing glances at Jane. Katherine had never wanted him to marry Anne in the first place, but now acted like Anne was truly her sister by blood and just not by law!

And if he didn't know any better, he would say Anne even usurped the affection his mother once saved for him, and only him- her darling son and the apple of her eye, for as long as he could remember. His father may have overlooked him, but his mother had always loved and admired him. Now, he would not be surprised if she was cooing with worry over Anne and denouncing him in the harshest terms.

Not that he didn't deserve it, at least for this. All he could hope is that his family would never find out, and he believed that Anne would never betray him like this, but thoughts still gnawed him.

A true knight would never hit his lady, especially not in front of his daughter. He knew that he was well within his legal rights to strike or even kill his wife if she displeased him, but he had never believed in that. He would never forget when he was just a boy, how his mother bled and cried when his grandmother had dared lay her hands on an anointed Queen of England, even if that Queen was her daughter-in-law. He had never felt so much fear and rage at once, even now that he was a man grown. He never wanted to make anybody feel like he did, and now he had scarred his daughter for life, as he knew first hand that those images would never be erased from his daughter's mind.

And Anne…he never wanted to hurt her. He truly did love her, and even though his affection for Jane was strong and if he had met Jane years ago there was a chance that she would be his wife and Duchess instead of Anne, but he did not ever regret his marriage to Anne. She was a woman ready to be Queen now, a dedicated mother, and somebody he did not feel obligated to go to bed with out of duty, but out of passion. The prohibition was difficult for him because he wanted to be one with his wife again, but how could he prevent his lust? He loved the company of women during the day and at night. How could he be so strong against his own nature?

Arthur always was, but Arthur wasn't him! Henry was always the ruddy one, always the more excitable one. Arthur was content with mulling over books of long dead men, sitting for hours receiving petitioners, meeting with his privy council, and attending Mass more than once a day alongside his pious wife. Henry, having spent just a few months in the footsteps of his brother, trying to take over more responsibility at Whitehall and even within his own household at Hampton, would never be content with becoming the crusty old man his brother had turned into. Arthur had spent so much time with their father that he had started to act like him.

He never expected Anne to reproach him for that. He thought she loved him because he was not Arthur or his father. That he was like his Grandfather King Edward, always up for a hunt, a feast, a masquerade, or a joust. His grandfather was never afraid of battle or of facing people down. Like Henry, he had selected his own bride despite the advice of others, and like Henry, had taken a mistress, more than one if Henry recalled correctly. But his grandmother never shamed him or made herself sick with grief.

Perhaps he had expected Anne to react in the same way, but after the reign of his father and brother, whose marriages were arranged but whose wives were never cheated on or exposed to undue cruelty, Anne would have been coached to expect better from a man who selected her, especially in spite of mounting pressure to do opposite. He knew his mother was unhappy but when Margaret Beaufort dared to strike her his father took his mother to task, and Katherine…Katherine held such a sway on her husband that even a childless marriage had turned into a love match.

Anne would have liked to be treated like them and not like Elizabeth Woodvillie, despite Henry's true nature.

He wanted to think Anne was foolish, but he knew it wasn't true, and he could not convince himself of that. Anne had every right to expect such treatment, considering they had spent the first part of their marriage in domestic bliss, hardly ever fighting and never even looking at others the same way they looked at each other. Why would she think that Henry would ever treat her as poorly as he had in the past few months, shunning her company and their children's for another woman? Daring to strike her when she finally directly confronted him on his lie to stay faithful? Henry knew that Anne probably would have taken back her comment about him being a lesser man than his brother, but he could not suppress the rage he felt inside of him when his wife, the woman he always thought understood how difficult his childhood and life had been in the shadow of his brother, dared to suggest he was not a worthy man because he was not Arthur.

Anne was supposed to love him for that, not scorn him.

Even if he was still shaken by her words, he knew there were practical matters, aside from his gnawing guilt. The court would know by the afternoon, at the latest, that the Duke of York had struck his Duchess, and Henry knew how rumors spread at court. By the time the Christmas Day celebrations commenced, it would have been known that Anne was thrashed or nearly beaten dead by her husband, all because he kept company with Jane Seymour.

He needed to try and salvage the situation as quickly as possible, so as soon as his groom was done dressing him for the day, he rushed down to where Jane was staying. He had to pass by Anne's apartment to get there, and he resisted the temptation to listen into, to know if she was asleep or if she was in there with his mother or little Elizabeth. But he needed to settle things quickly with Jane, knowing that if he continued his affair with her, more blame would be passed onto his head from courtiers sympathetic to Anne, not to mention his whole family. It would be the quickest thing to do, and the easiest. The conversation he was going to have with Anne was going to be painful, and so was explaining to his daughter what on earth compelled him to hit her mother, the woman he had always hugged and kissed when he saw her.

They always had put on a happy marriage for their children, and he was sure once little Elizabeth woke this morning, his sons aside from baby William would know what transpired, and he would have three angry faces to contend with once he went to the nursery. He was in no hurry to begin that dialogue with his children and wife, so Jane would have to go first.

To his chagrin and annoyance, Jane was not in the suite of rooms she shared with two of Anne's ladies. One of the sleepy-eyed ladies had informed him that she had stayed the night with her family, so Henry thanked her politely and headed to the Seymour apartments, cursing his luck. He had wanted to avoid involving Jane's family, knowing that they would be overly involved. This was a conversation he needed to have with Jane, not with Sir John and Edward Seymour.

He was admitted by the groom outside of their door in Seymour livery who had just begun his post. Henry felt a bit guilty for how many people had disturbed this morning, but he would not lay in his bed any longer when sleep would not come to him. He was always somebody who needed to take action.

Sir John was still in his robe when he came out into the outer chamber looking rightly confused and a bit miffed, but once his eyes registered who it was, he dropped into a fumbled bow, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Your grace, forgive me, had I known…" he began, but Henry held up his hand to silence him. He was fond of Jane's father, had been since his youth, but he could not abide by the man's insistent need to impress him, not now at least.

"No need, Sir John, your hospitality is well known," Henry stated, knowing that the older man needed to be comforted, and he would not leave the Seymour family out of his favor even though he was done with their daughter. "I need to speak with Ja-Mistress Seymour," Henry commanded, not having enough grace to coach it as a request. He had almost called her by her Christian name, but knew he could not, not anymore. Jane would be Mistress Seymour until she could find a husband, and then hopefully she would be Mistress Brandon and the Duchess of Suffolk before long.

"At once, your grace," Sir John responded, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. He had never liked the idea of Jane becoming the Duke's mistress, but at his older son's urging after his visit to Wolf Hall, he knew it was the right thing to do. The affair, however, had lasted much longer than he wanted it to, and now he was concerned his darling daughter would never find a suitable husband, not when the King and Queen had reacted so poorly to Jane. The Duke of York may not be King for some years, he was prudent enough to admit that, and that was a long time for Jane to be single.

Him coming this early in the morning to see his daughter could not be a good sign for them, because Jane would either need to hold his interest until he became King, in which case he would have the power to dower her amply and marry her well, or the affair needed to have ended some months ago, after Lord William's birth, so Jane would not incur the wrath of the royal family any longer. Ending the affair now could be disastrous, without any assurance that King Arthur would dower Jane and since the affair was public knowledge now, there was no way that anybody would be willing to marry the cast off of the Duke unless they were rewarded for it.

Sir John prayed that his daughter would not suffer unduly from his son's, and his own, ambition.

Jane came out quickly after her father told her, too weary from sleep to share his concerns. She threw on a robe, for modesty, even though she and the Duke had been together just two nights before. She smiled as widely as she could, her eyes still unfocused, and dropped into a graceful curtsey. "Your grace," she greeted with a hint of suggestion in her voice. Rarely did Henry visit her so early in the day, but she was not opposed to going to his chambers to be with him for a few hours before the rest of the court woke up, as there were less likely to be prying eyes.

Her face morphed into a frown when he did not speak for a long time, and she realized that if he was here to lay with her, he would have sent a message like he usually did. She was sobered out of her haze of sleep, now looking at him with wide panic. Did something happen? She had no idea what could possibly be wrong, or for him to look so forlorn.

Henry finally cleared his throat, feeling more pained than he had thought he would. He never truly loved her, he knew that, but it shouldn't have felt so terrible for him to do this. He had no promise for Jane that he would be able to find her husband right away, or one worthy of her sacrifice to him. She had braved her reputation and the wrath of not only his wife but of his brother and the Queen. She had risked a lot to be with him, and he did not want her to be punished for it, but how could he guarantee he would raise her to the duchy of Suffolk when Arthur had never promised to ennoble his former brother-in-law?

If worse came to worse, Brandon was not a terrible match without his title. He was a good man, and Henry would never grow tired of his friendship and company, as he was his oldest friend. Jane would still be at court, and Brandon, due to his children's bloodline, had a pension from Arthur. She would want for nothing.

Still, he wanted her to have a title, a worthy husband for how happy she had made him, and Brandon deserved to be ennobled anyway. He had made his sister Mary happy and helped her escape going over the ocean to be with the Emperor. Arthur would not forgive him for that still, but their nephew, Edward Brandon, was the grandson of a King and had just as much royal blood running through his veins as they did. His father deserved to be ennobled so he one day could be as well, and the duchy of Suffolk should be given to somebody loyal to the crown, instead of the pretender their father had executed who once held the title.

To Henry, it was a perfect plan, but not one that he could execute himself, at least not until his brother passed. So he would not promise Jane that she would someday be a Duchess. He could only promise that he would not forget about her, even if they could not be together anymore.

Realizing that he had been silent for far too long, and that Jane looked like she was going to pass out, Henry finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm, "We cannot continue our relationship, Mistress Seymour." He thought he probably sounded a bit cold, but if allowed himself to get carried away with the emotion he was feeling, and the pain in her face, he would break his resolve and continue with Jane and hurt Anne further. He could not allow that.

Jane let out a squeal, a sound of shock and she steadied herself on the couch in her family's chambers. Without thinking, she fought back, tears in her eyes, "What? I thought…I had thought…" she sputtered, unable to complete her protest. What had she thought? She wanted Henry badly; she loved him, even though he was married and would never set aside his wife for her. But she had hoped, and confidently thought, that she would not be set aside for a long time.

Perhaps not ever.

She had only spoken her hope to her sister in a letter she sent with her brother, so she was sure that Tom had read it too, but as long as Edward and her father never did she did not mind. She wrote that she hoped that Henry would never set her aside, as she was so sure that he was sick of his wife who nagged him, pushed him to be the man he wasn't. Her Duke was an exuberant man, one who she couldn't see putting up with a wife who took naps and spent more time with her children than with the lively court that Henry had tried to create.

She could not be his wife, but she knew that there were some women who spent their lives being somebody's official mistress. She could live in relative comfort, stay at court, and once Henry was done with her she would not worry about marriage. She, and whatever bastard children they had together if they ever did, would live in a nice estate and she could be content with that lifestyle. She loved Henry so much and did not think that another man would make her feel the same way. She would sacrifice any figment of modesty she could salvage so she would not have to leave him. She did not need to be somebody's wife as long as she could stay his mistress.

Curse her luck for not meeting Henry before Anne had stuck her claws in him! If she had been brought to court at the same time, danced in front of the envoys of the Emperor, she was so sure that Henry would have noticed her and took her as his wife, and she would be a far better wife than Anne was. She would never undermine him in front of his family, pressure him to lose his youth to be dull and serious, or be cruel to his mistresses. She would have been a true wife to him in every way, and perhaps he would not even need to take a mistress if he were married to Jane. Of course it could not be, but Jane liked to dream sometimes when she was alone, and she had told herself that she would be a better Duchess and Queen than Anne.

Certainly, it was natural for the Duchess of York to be jealous and spiteful, but not to treat Jane with such callousness. She had done nothing than what the Duke wanted of her, and she had begun to enjoy his company more than she expected. Jane was still one of her appointed ladies, and her family was favored by the Duke of York. Anne was no more nobly born than Jane; she had no right to treat her like she was scum.

How could she be scum, when they both had knights for fathers and the same royal man had conceded to love both of them? That if she had been in the right place at the right time, she would have had Anne's husband?

Despite her ill treatment, she had done everything her mistress commanded of her, never seeking to challenge her, but all she had gotten in return for honest service was a cold-shoulder, and violence.

_She dropped the water basin loudly, while the Duchess was in bed. She blushed scarlet red and hurried to pick up the contents, grabbing a nearby towel to absorb the water. She tried to be quiet about it, knowing that the Duchess was sleeping and heavily pregnant, not wanting to upset her more than she already was. She certainly did not need any more reasons to single Jane out for the unpleasant tasks of her household! _

_She had only been in her grace's service for a month, and had recently started coming to the Duke's bed at night. Her thighs were still sore from when Henry took her maidenhead, but she did not focus on that as she bent over and picked up the basin, going to refill it with water, when a harsh hand reached out and grabbed the basin. Jane looked up to come face with Nan Seville, one of the Duchess' senior ladies, who had been with Anne even before her marriage. _

"_Mistress Seymour, her grace is abed," Nan scolded in a violent whisper, ripping the basin from Jane's hands and putting it on the table. "You need to stop being so damn clumsy!" _

_Nan was aware of what Jane was doing to her mistress and friend, and knew how upset Anne was about it, and she thought that Jane needed to be more careful about how she behaved in her service. She was not fool enough to think it was all Jane's doing, but she could not imagine how a girl like Jane had held the Duke's attention for as long as she had managed to, going as far as to be appointed in a household that had previously been freely selected. _

_If Jane had any sense left, she would stop her nonsense with the Duke and service the Duchess humbly. There was still hope that Anne would come to like the girl, especially if she saw that the Duke's affections were not returned. But Jane apparently had no shame, something that Nan could not tolerate._

_Usually Jane would be scared and cowed by Anne's ladies, who bullied and shot dirty looks at her, aside from Jane Parker who did not seem as fond of her sister-in-law as one would expect and had struck up a friendship with Jane, but she did not need to fear anymore. The Duke would be horrified to hear of their cruelty towards her, now that she was his true and loyal mistress. "I did nothing that you have not done before, Mistress Seville," Jane replied harshly, not whispering as Nan had done. She did not care if Anne heard! Perhaps it would do her good to know the truth about her own household! _

_She went to walk away when she felt Nan's grip on her wrist, pulling her back. "You will show more care, Mistress Seymour. Ladies in your position do not stay in your position forever." Once she had said her peace, Jane went to pull away, but Nan tightened her grip, staring at her for an eternity. _

She was very upset after her encounter with Mistress Seville that she left for the day, not even caring if she was dismissed due to abandoning her station. She ran straight to the Duke's room, mercifully empty, and due to her anger and fear, told the Duke that one of Anne's ladies had struck her. Henry was upset, and promised to speak to Anne about it. After that, Anne's ladies did treat her with more care, but they were still not friendly, and the Duchess herself had never apologized to her for the way that her loyal lady had treated her, nor did she downgrade her beloved Nan for her cruelty.

To be fair, Anne never said anymore to her after she had been admitted into her household, and had showed signs of warming towards her when Lord William was born, as she had been allowed to serve her and the Duke meals in their rooms a few times, usually a sign of favor. Anne had even smiled at her a few times when she dismissed her for the night, and then recently, things had changed again. She locked herself up in close corridors with either her children or with the Queen Dowager, or took long trips to Whitehall to confer with the Queen, and began to treat Jane with coldness.

How could Henry stand being married to such a frigid and changeable woman?

That is why she was so sure that she would never be set aside, not with the way the Duchess had started to behave. Didn't Anne know how lucky she was to be married to Henry? Jane would have given anything to be in her position, and was willing to content herself to how much of Henry as he would allow her to have.

It broke her heart when she thought of a future that didn't involve him.

His voice drew her from her sorrow, and it was harsh and cold, different than she was used to hearing. "What did you think?" Henry questioned, dreading the answer. What did she want from him? He was allowed to end this whenever he wanted; he owed nothing to her, and not when she came to him freely. His decision to provide for her was his own doing, not something that every man would do for his cast away mistress. If she proved herself to be ungrateful for it, she would not have his protection.

He already had a wife who would fight him and protest with him, he did not want to hear the same from Jane, who was always so sweet and loving when he came to her. He knew it was unfair of him to expect her to accept it so gracefully, after all, they had just been together two nights before, and he had shown no signs of tiring with her. But he thought she knew…knew what this would entail for her once it ended.

Feeling badly, knowing that she truly was an innocent to so many things, not a seasoned courtier like he had grown used to having around him, he put his hand on her cheek and whipped a tear from her face. "It is not that I don't care for you anymore, Jane, it's that this has become a dangerous thing for both of us now. If I am going to get my brother to arrange you a marriage, we have to end this now," Henry lied. He would not tell Jane about how he struck his wife, how he had upset her by threatening to withdraw his love from her.

He would do the right thing, and that included not making Jane privy to the secrets of his marriage.

"Forgive me, your grace, for protesting, I just love your grace so much and the idea of being without you pains me," Jane finally said, regaining her voice and feeling comforted by his touch. Perhaps if he softened his ear to her, things would be able to be as she wanted them to. Feeling strong, she continued, "I do not need a marriage, not truly. As long as we are together, I will be so happy."

"Jane we cannot be together anymore." Henry withdrew his hand as if her skin was burning. She thought they could stay as they were, her unmarried, living at court alone and as his mistress? Did she know what that would do to her safety, her reputation, and his? Arthur and Katherine would shun him from favor, lying to his children would become increasingly difficult as they grew older, and Anne would never look at him the same way again.

Anne…it always came down to her. He had hurt her badly and needed to remedy things. Despite how tempting it would to always have Jane available to him, without the guilt he would feel for taking his best friend's wife to bed, the wife he would force him to take. Despite that, looking at Jane, she was a pretty girl, with an open face that spelled her love for him in no uncertain terms. It touched him as a man, but she would never eclipse Anne. He loved her, and would not compromise that to keep a mistress by his side forever.

"I am sorry, Mistress Seymour. I promise I have already found your husband, he is a good man and he will treat you well. My friend Charles Brandon is a worthy bridegroom for any woman, and he made my sister very happy," Henry explained, backing away from her and towards the door. He would not promise to make her a Duchess or a countess, he could never count on Arthur to agree and if she truly loved him for him, she would not have been in this for the title.

He told himself any disappointment on her face would not be for the humble title of her future husband, but because she would miss his company. After all, she would have staked her reputation to live in sin with him for the rest of her days, and he knew that was not motivated by ambition.

Jane forced herself to smile. This is what her family wanted for her, a good marriage and a place at court. With Brandon she would have that, and she would not be shunned from court, tied to a man who lacked ambition. She would be married to the future King of England's best friend, have children of her own, whose half-siblings were grandchildren of King Henry the Seventh. Her brothers would get positions at his court; her father might even get a few more manors. It was a future she would not have had without Henry, and perhaps in time, she would even be a lord's wife, if Henry loved his friend as much as he claimed.

Even more important, even her children could be in the same nursery as the Princes and Princesses of England, and grow up as their lifelong friends, earning positions in Court for generations of people with Seymour blood to come. She would have never caught the eye of Charles Brandon by herself, and she knew that she should be grateful, so she choked out the words her brother and father would want her to say, dropping into an eloquent curtsey. "Thank, your grace, I am honored."

Henry nodded as a way of response, and then forced himself to leave the Seymour apartment, vowing to never step foot it in again.

* * *

Arthur was usually a patient man. Henry had asked to meet with him, and so he had invited to his rooms after most people had broken their fasts. He himself had barely picked at a piece of bread that he asked to be brought up, his mind clouded with worry that he felt like he could not eat. Even so, he felt his foot tap with impatience when Henry had proved himself a moment late, his anger towards his brother greater than he had felt in long time.

He had not wanted to leave Anne the previous night, and he knew Katherine did not want to either. She had made herself sick with how upset she was over Henry's treatment, and as the night wore on her face swelled even more, and a bruise began to form on her right side. His brother was a strong man and wore a lot of rings, and as a result, Arthur imagined that no matter how she styled her hair, her condition would be difficult to conceal, and he had half a mind to cancel the celebrations for tonight, but he knew that would raise more attention to the situation.

Besides, Anne was a royal now, adjusted to her station in life better than most ladies of her birth would be, and she would insist that they continue despite her embarrassment, although in Arthur's opinion it was her husband who needed to be embarrassed and ashamed for his conduct.

After they had left Anne in the hands of his capable mother, Katherine had explained to him that he could not order Henry locked in his apartments or conduct him to the Tower like he so wanted to. It was not a crime, it was hardly frowned upon, and it would make the royal family look fractured, as they had been in the old days. What message would it send if he locked his heir in the Tower of London for the non-crime of striking his wife during an argument?

Katherine thought it would be better to put on a united front, and after he had calmed himself and attempted to sleep, he knew that would be the best too. Their dynasty was a new one, and his father would have never wanted him to show a personal rift play out more publically than it needed to, or for Arthur's passions to get in the way of his governance.

But Arthur was also the head of the family, and as the patriarch of the Tudors, he had the right to protect his sister from the evils of his brother. While he lived and breathed, if Anne ever felt unsafe in her marriage he would arrange to have her, and her children, stay at Richmond Palace if need be, far enough away to teach Henry a lesson. He was half tempted to conduct her there now, and start spending more time with her eldest son Edward, to maybe see if he could live long enough to see Henry disinherited and place his nephew in front of him, as if he was his own son.

But he knew that it would be too dangerous to do that. Edward loved his father, and would never want to hurt him like that, and Arthur knew it was impractical to place son above father. Henry would have to be his heir, as he had done nothing worthy of being cut off from the succession.

He wanted to punish Henry, give him a verbal lashing he would not soon forget, and deny him something he wanted. He had no idea what his brother could want that he could not buy himself though, Arthur was uncomfortably aware of how much more money Henry had than him. His three official peerages brought him in a mass of income, more than Arthur could ever hope to dream of. Even though Arthur was King, he had always allowed Henry to run his estates and income the way he wanted, and even now, in the peak of his anger, he could not bring himself to take away one of his titles and deny him some of his income, knowing that it would hurt Anne and his children and not just Henry. He would not banish him either, knowing that he did not have the power to remove him from Hampton and exiling him from Whitehall would do no good, and again, Henry was tied to Anne and he could not rightly banish the husband without banishing the wife.

His mistress, on the other hand, was not somebody Arthur felt the need to protect.

Henry's request for an audience was delivered to him this morning, and it was as vague as possible, as Henry had always been a master at drafting written requests for him, even when he was just a boy asking for the titles from his Beaufort inheritance. It was about a pressing matter regarding his future, and Arthur was not fool enough to believe that it was truly about him. He wanted to provide Mistress Seymour with a marriage, something that he had brought up to Arthur when he came to Whitehall to take a larger role in Privy Council meetings. Proving that he was up to the task, Arthur had been comfortable enough appointing him president, even though he was sure that he was none too happy that most days he had to answer to Katherine when Arthur felt too ill to attend.

Even on days when Arthur did not attend though, it did not stop Henry coming to his rooms to confer with him, first about matters regarding the kingdom, and then about matters regarding his personal life.

He was never comfortable with the idea of arranging a marriage between Mistress Seymour and a member of the nobility. It would be difficult at any rate, and even if he did want to make the situation disappear, he would hate to put Anne in the position of having her rival be member of the peerage by marriage. He had grown fond of the young woman who he now called sister, and knew when the time came; she would make an excellent Queen for the country he had worked hard to perfect. He knew Henry was upset that Anne could not be a full wife to him after the birth of their third child, but even so, he could never imagine betraying such a beautiful woman with a plain creature like Jane Seymour.

Anne was just as beautiful as Katherine was when she came to England all those years ago. Even now, the idea of hurting his wife by taking a mistress was unbearable, but even for a man like Henry who did not seem to care so much about the pain he was causing, how could he look at Mistress Seymour and see a replacement for Anne Boleyn?

It was not his place to tell Henry what to do. He would have allowed Jane to marry a knight, as her father was one as well so it would not be a bad match under any other circumstances, and one Sir John could have expected to garner before his daughter sacrificed her virtue in Henry's bed. He would not, however, allow ambitious men to use their daughters as pawns for their advancement and for entrance into the nobility, especially not when they were going to throw them in front of Henry. It made Arthur look a malleable King, already molded by his younger brother's demands, and it was a dangerous precedent. He could only hope Henry wouldn't allow his sexual whims to rule England once he passed, but even if he could not prevent that from the grave, he would not let his younger brother's love affairs destroy how he governed. But he would have granted his request to help him find Jane a husband; he was not the type of King who would let a woman suffer needlessly for an association with his family, nor would he reward it. He was not opposed to it, out of chivalry, and out of love for his brother.

However, things had changed when Henry dared to hurt Anne and he would be dead before he would grant Henry anymore requests! He intended to prove it to him that he would not be helping him arrange a marriage for Mistress Seymour, and he would not do it for any future mistresses he planned to take, not if he was going to abuse his wife. Out of respect for Anne, he was not going to mention it directly, but he would make sure that Henry knew that such abuse would not be allowed in his family without consequences.

If Henry was going to betray and beat his wife, he was not going to have Arthur's blessing.

He would have liked to punch Henry as soon as he walked into his apartments, thinking that was at the very least what he deserved for daring to hurt his wife, but he kept his hands glued to his desk, not even looking up when Henry entered later than Arthur expected him. When Henry made his bow to him, he could not even form the word brother from his lips. Instead, he greeted Henry formally and motioned for his grooms to leave them alone. He stayed seated and waited for Henry to sit across from him.

"Brother," Henry began, sensing that Arthur was in a poor mood. His brother was usually quite informal with him, usually pouring him a glass of wine himself and slapping his back good naturally, but today he was almost morose. Henry thought perhaps Arthur was not feeling well, and perhaps his older brother feared this would be his last Christmas as King. "I am sorry to bother you, I just needed to ask you for a favor, one that in my opinion is long overdue," Henry finished, looking up expectantly.

Even if Arthur was in a poor mood, Henry had to set things straight, for Brandon and for Jane. For years he promised Brandon that when he was older, he would see to it that Arthur ennobled him, as nobody else in England deserved it as much as him. He knew that once Brandon married his sister without Arthur's permission it would be difficult, if not impossible, to get the title conferred upon his boyhood friend, but now that Brandon had been a single father to his children and had stayed loyal to their sister's memory, it was only right that Arthur concede to his request. He knew that in Arthur's position banishment was a rightful sentence for what Mary and Charles did, even though Henry was upset at first, he knew now that it was the only decision Arthur could have made without looking weak.

Even so, a good King could be a merciful and generous King, and what was the use of having the power if you could not ennoble your friends and family? After all, Brandon did lose his father fighting for theirs. It was only right that the family get more than a royal pension.

And Jane…Jane should not suffer for being his mistress, and in Henry's opinion, she should profit. She was a good woman, who after this morning's conversation, he was sure truly loved him and Henry would be lying if he did not feel sad, now that he had ended the relationship, about losing her company, especially when it would be another three months before Anne could be with him and now, that she had not even spoken to him since last night, he was sure it would be awhile until he could count on her love and friendship, as it was before.

Henry needed to wash his conscience clean of the obligation he felt towards Jane. He felt like it would be a downgrade if she married just a plain gentleman, as her own father was a knight, even though he had to suppress the thought that Jane came to his bed wiling, knowing that it would harm her marriage prospects unless he was willing to provide for her.

He loved his brother, but sometimes he wished that he would just allow the sickness that he had suffered from since his youth to overtake him, or perhaps just leave the throne now before he died, living out his retirement in peace with Katherine and perhaps living longer without the burden of kingship resting on his shoulders. As such, Arthur could hardly attend to the duties he once personally oversaw, passing more onto Sir Thomas and Katherine, and as of recently, even Henry himself.

If he was already aiding the rule, Henry did not think it would be too difficult to just let him have the crown now, so he could deal with his own personal problems the way he saw fit, instead of having to come before his older brother to deal with them, as if he was truly lesser than him! Brandon would already have his title, Jane her marriage and Anne could not argue with him because he would not only be her husband, but her King.

He would never wish death on his brother, but sometimes it would be easier for everybody involved if he just abdicated, telling the people that his illness had left him unable to deal with the burdens of his country. He ignored the thought that his brother had never been one to shrink away from his duty for the betterment of his health.

"What is that, your grace?" Arthur replied, feigning disinterest. He was waiting to hear for Henry to tell him that it had become urgent that he arrange a marriage for Mistress Seymour, so he kept his face schooled to not betray his hint of knowing as to what happened the previous night. He would be careful, as to not incur any wrath on Anne's head, because he could see his brother wrongfully chiding Anne for involving his family over such a private matter. As far as Arthur was concerned, the minute Anne became Henry's wife she became part of the family that he was the patriarch of, and as such, it was her right to come to him whenever she needed to. If Henry did not realize that, and his brother was so sure of himself and his supposed God-given talents at inspiring loyalty that he was sure the thought of Arthur as the head of the family never occurred to him, then Arthur was sure that he would find out once he took over his throne and his duties.

He was surprised when Henry responded with a different request, "Charles Brandon is our brother-in-law, even though Mary has been dead for some time, and his children share our blood, they are just as royal as we are. The Duchy of Suffolk has been vacant since father executed the last pretender, and I think it would be right and proper for Charles to be honored for his service and loyalty to your majesty," Henry explained calmly, trying not to sound too urgent. If he coached in such a way that had nothing to do with Jane, he was sure that he had a better chance of Arthur agreeing to his request. The timing would be odd, but Arthur could do it tonight, saying it was in honor of Christmas.

"You want me to make your friend Brandon a Duke?" Arthur questioned, his shock apparent. This was not the way he was expecting this interview to go. However, at Henry's eager look and nod and his smile of confidence, the pieces placed together in his head. He turned his voice cold again, and regarded his brother with an even look, a wry and sarcastic smile on his face. "He betrayed my trust a long time ago, married our sister without my permission, and he still has a head. I'd say that's reward enough for his supposed loyalty and service to our father and myself," Arthur responded, almost automatically.

Under normal circumstances, Arthur would be extremely hesitant to grant such an honor to Brandon. He hardly thought Henry's friend worthy of the title gentleman, for how he seduced his innocent sister away from her important marital alliance. Aside from that, he was loud, lewd, and not the type of man that Arthur surrounded himself with, although he was not too cruel to admit that his father's service deserved to be rewarded somehow, which is why he had kept the pension to Brandon's mother until she died, and continued to allow Brandon to have a pension as well, even though if he took it away Henry would see to it that his friend was well-taken care of, as he had with their sister when he banished her.

Beyond that, though, even if Brandon had just been one of Henry's friends who had not compromised a much needed alliance, he would still have been apprehensive to promote him to the high honor of Duke. Raising men to the peerage was something his father had taught him not to do lightly, something that Arthur had seen the logic in. Too many powerful men would be dangerous, especially when Arthur had been heirless for so long, without a child and with Henry destined for the clergy. He had kept a close eye on the Duke of Buckingham for years, something that Henry would be wise to do as well. Men with titles, money, and royal blood could inspire loyalty, and their dynasty was a new one. It would be foolish to forget that, and Arthur was never a fool.

Brandon had two children with royal blood in their veins. If he ever fell out of favor with Henry, he could raise an army for his son Edward, champion him over Henry's own son, which was not a possibility that Henry had been groomed to think of.

But despite all this, in normal circumstances he would be willing to give Brandon a more minor title than Duke, out of his love for Henry, if he was unaware of what he was going to do with it. He was going to arrange his own marriage for Jane to Brandon, making his mistress a Duchess, and keeping her close to him so he could still take her to bed if the fancy struck him. He cared too much about the dignity of his family, and of Anne, to do such a thing. As long as that remained Henry's intention, Brandon would never get a title as long as Arthur lived and breathed, even though he was well aware that Henry could ennoble him the moment he died.

Henry let out a louder sigh than he expected, but quickly suppressed his irritation. He knew Arthur would object the high honor of Duke, due to his conservative and miser ways, but he was not willing to let it rest there. Pressing forward, he continued, "Perhaps an Earl, or even a viscount, would be appropriate. I feel that Charles…" he was going to press his suite more, on behalf of his friend and Jane, but Arthur held his hand up.

"What has Brandon done, besides marry Mary and father children on her, that is worthy of the honor you ask me to give him?" Arthur questioned, his tone condescending. Seeing that Henry was tongue tied, he pressed forward, wanting Henry to understand that he would never, ever ennoble Brandon for the wrong reasons. "Perhaps he has been kind to the Duchess of York, showing her the utmost curtsey, or saved her from some ill-intentioned men? I know there are a great deal of them at Hampton Court, ready to take advantage of such a kind woman like her grace. After all, the title of nobility is only afforded to men who have proved themselves worthy and chivalrous, protecting innocent ladies from the evils of this world."

He could not say outright that he condemned Henry's treatment of Anne, because Anne requested that he did not, but he would not Henry leave his rooms without knowing that Arthur was aware of what kind of man his brother had proved to be. Henry was still rightly abashed, so he added for good measure, "I am so fond of your wife and Duchess that any man who saved her from harm would deserve to title himself Duke of Suffolk, and any man who would dare harm her would deserve to be locked in the Tower." Henry could not mistake his intentions, not now.

Henry's face was a mixture of shame and anger, and Arthur knew that his words had landed. He allowed himself a small smile, and leaned back into his chair, waiting for Henry's response. "Arthur," Henry started. He was usually hesitant to call his brother by his Christian name, but he was trying to see Arthur as a man and not as his King, knowing that if he was insincere he would never get what he wanted. He also needed to be honest, because dancing around it would drudge up what Arthur already seemed to know. He did not need to be condemned by his brother for any imagined ill-treatment of Anne! "I need to find Jane an honorable husband, and Charles has no title. I will not leave her in an undesirable marriage. She deserves this honor."

Arthur scoffed. "Honor? What honor is there, sacrificing your virginity for an upstart noble husband? You made her false promises, Henry, and that is no fault of mine. I am not in the habit of giving out titles for the sake of your lust, and for some silly girl's ambition!" Arthur scolded, clenching his fist underneath the table. Seeing Henry was going to respond, he jumped to continue his point, his anger growing and getting the best of him. He was only half-aware when he shouted "And what of your wife's honor?" Henry froze, looking at him with horror and fury. "Was it honorable for you to hit her? To do it in front of your daughter?! You call yourself a noble, a knight, and yet you dare to strike a defenseless woman who loves you? Who has risked her reputation and had to change her life just to be your wife? You claim to care about ladies but apparently only the ones you can fuck!"

Henry gasped at the violence of his brother's language before allowing the full enormity of his words to sink in.

He knew.

He knew what had transpired last night, and he felt anger grow inside of him, anger he knew he could not express towards his sovereign and brother. He would not make the mistake of yelling at his brother or the Queen again, not when Arthur was already clearly very upset with him for what happened in the privacy of his own marriage.

He did regret hitting Anne, and vowed to himself that he would never do it again, but he did not need to explain that to Arthur, or to any man, not even Anne's father if he came to ask him! Anne was his wife, and she only needed to answer to him. He knew that his family disapproved of his affair, but he did not think much of it, knowing that he would never make promises to Jane that would usurp his wife's affection, or to make him forget his duty to his country and his family. It was none of Arthur's concern what happen in his wife's bedchamber, and should certainly have no bearing on what sort of titles he would confer upon his friends!

If Arthur had hit Katherine when they were still called the Prince and Princess of Wales, it is unlikely that their father would take him to task on it, despite the fact that he was the head of the family and it would be his right to do so. It was not illegal, but his father would have frowned upon such violence afforded on a royal lady. Yet, Henry was so sure his father would have never interfered in any marriage but his own, even if it was his son's. He never would have denied Arthur anything, his golden son and heir. Arthur may have been his King and patriarch, but Henry was still his own man, and wanted the same treatment that Arthur had gotten his whole life!

Anne never should have told him. He knew that she had made it plain to his family that she was upset about his relationship with Jane, but he thought that she would have had enough respect for him, for their marriage, to keep their privacy sacred, knowing that they did not have much of it to begin with. She never should have told anybody, and they could have dealt with it together, healing together from the wrongs that he committed. How could he be sure that his mother did not know; that Katherine didn't?

It was bad enough having to deal with Anne and their older children, but he did not think he would have to deal with his own family! Unbidden, anger bubbled in his stomach towards his wife. How dare she hurt him like this, make him out to be a monster when he made one mistake? Once he was done here, Anne would not be getting the soft apology that he was planning. He wanted an explanation, and he would get it!

Arthur's face was still red with rage but Henry was able to calm himself enough to spit out one last attempt to get what he wanted, what he needed now more than ever, even though Arthur's words stung him. Did he ever make such a promise to Jane that he would find her a nobleman for a husband? Was that what his sweet, unassuming Jane thought of him? Just a path to advance her and her family? He pushed those thoughts out of his head, he was done with Jane, and he could not dwell on it. He still wanted to do this, out of spite now.

Arthur did not want to make his beloved sister-in-law's rival a Duchess, but Henry would not give up so easily. "Whatever Anne told you…" he began, trying to defend himself. Anne was not blameless in this, she had deliberately provoked him, first sexually and then through her harsh words against him and Jane. He should not have slapped her but that did not mean that she did not speak out of turn, shaming him for something that most ladies in her station would close their eyes to. And then…then she compared him to the brother whose shadow he felt more than ever. "She shamed me, and Lisbeth's entrance was ill timed! I did not mean to, my temper got out of hand, and it will never happen again! But that does not change the fact that Jane needs to be married, and Charles would be the perfect match, if he were the Earl of Suffolk."

Arthur looked his brother in disbelief. He was still not going to drop it, when Arthur made it clear that he would not humor him, not in this. He would make his bastard son a lord, ignore how lavishly he lived at Hampton Court as if he was already King, he would even turn a blind eye to his idiotic and dangerous affairs. But he would not allow any member of his family to ill-treat another. He defended his brother against his wife, his beloved wife who he had never struck or dreamed of striking, when she tried to send his bastard son away. That is what he did when one member of his family tried to hurt another. He would never make an exception, not even for his heir.

"I did not need to have your wife speak to me, Henry, her face was admission enough," Arthur explained sharply. He was not willing to send his brother away without leaving him with something to think about, but first he had to make it clear to him that this was not something he was prepared to consider. "I will not make the woman who has caused Anne so much pain into a countess," he dismissed offhand, gaining control of his wits. "Why are you so desperate for this? Will I be presented with another niece or nephew in the coming months, only to bear the surname Brandon instead of FitzYork?"

He would feel even more strongly about denying Brandon a title of Henry intended to make him pass off one of his bastards as his legitimate child. He would not condemn a member of the peerage, a supposed honorable and exclusively rank, to have a bastard in his nursery unknowingly. He would not object to a marriage between Mistress Seymour and Master Brandon, but he would not bring such shame to his family. Hal FitzYork was a lovely boy and a great addition to their family, but one bastard was enough, and the scandal for a hidden one amongst a newly made noble would be downright unacceptable.

"No!" Henry denied vehemently, refusing to consider the option. There was always a chance that Jane would fall pregnant in a few months, and he made a mental note to tell Jane and Brandon to wait a few months before marriage, to make sure that none of Henry's children were in her womb, but as far as he knew, there was no bastard in her belly. The accusation stung more than he expected, and he knew he had lost. Arthur would not hear reason, not now.

"I believe our audience is at an end, your grace. I will see you tonight. Happy Christmas," Arthur dismissed him, a sad smile on his features. Usually Christmas was a happy time for their family, but this was one that would best be forgotten, for everybody.

Henry forced himself to bow, leaving his brother's apartments with a heavy heart. He headed towards Anne's, anger filling his head and clouding his thoughts. He would not get the title and marriage for his friends all because Anne could not keep her thoughts to herself, and have enough foresight to confine herself to her rooms, so they could explain to their children together what had happened. She had denied their friend a title he should have had long ago, and hurt Jane's prospects by making her out to be an ambitious fool, and weakened the value of their relationship as result.

Arthur thought highly of Anne, which would usually please him, but Henry thought his brother's affection was misplaced. If Anne were as noble as Arthur made her out to be, she would have behaved with more discretion, seeing if they could work things out before going to his family. He had half a mind to tell her to just stay in her rooms for Christmas tonight, as he was sure that if she went out in public everybody would know what had happened, and his family would make no attempt to shield his reputation. It would ruin his, no THEIR, image as a happy and devoted couple, just like Katherine and Arthur. It would ruin him.

Worst of all, he had no idea if she had done it on purpose or not, and that was an uncomfortable idea to consider.

* * *

Fear was not something he was used to seeing on the faces of her ladies.

Usually they smiled at him calmly, sometimes some of the ladies favoring him with indulgent or seductive smiles. This time, Mistress Sheldon, one of Anne's cousins, opened the door for him, a look of worry on her features. Henry had worked himself up on the walk over, and he was sure that his face was red from anger and exhaustion. He pushed past her gruffly, not responding to her coos.

Anne had wronged him, even if he wronged her too, that did not excuse it. He was entitled to be angry, especially since many husbands did not treat their wives as gently as he always had with Anne. It was his own personal code to never physical harm his wife, and he had broken it, but he knew of many men who gave their wives regular beatings. His grandmother believed that it kept marriages strong, with wives knowing their place and husbands not feeling weakened by overbearing wives. He had only struck Anne lightly, and even if he should not have hit her, Anne ought to be grateful for how well he treated her, and not turning his family against him, especially not his brother who could harm their prospects greatly!

"Your grace, forgive me, her grace is abed she ask that nobody bother her!" Madge called out desperately behind him, as much as she was allowed to without incurring his wrath. She did not want to be on the bad side of her mistress' husband. She was, as all of Anne's ladies, aware of how much the Duke loved the Duchess, but how sharp his temper had gotten last night, and how badly she was hurt by it. When they came into her rooms that morning, as she had dismissed them night before because she was confident her husband would stay the night, they were horrified to see the state she was in.

They never would have thought it would ever come to that. It worried them that she would not get up out of bed in the morning, but once Queen Elizabeth came to visit she had allowed them to lace in her a gown before receiving her, but she did not do anything with her, leaving it disheveled. The bruise on her face was an ugly shade of purple and her eye was slightly blackened. Madge thought it could be covered up with makeup, but Anne refused her offer. It was as if she wanted to leave it there, to remind people of how strong she was, and how her husband had wronged her.

Madge had no doubt her cousin would come out on top of this one. Even so, she doubted that this would end well, as the Duke was the most upset as she had seen him in as long as she had been Anne's service. Her attempt to stop him had failed, he ripped back the curtain separating Anne's presence chamber from her bedchamber.

"Anne! I need to speak with you, now!" he shouted, looking around the chamber for his wife, and he softened visibly when he saw her sitting on a chair, her hair a mess and her eyes wide. Her face was marred far more than he had expected, her beautiful figures transformed by the ugliness he had inflicted upon her. To his horror, she flinched visibly when he walked closer to her, even though his face was not angry anymore. His first thought was that she was being overly sensitive, trying to make him feel guilty than he should, but looking at her now, he could not convince himself of that, not anymore. He looked down on his hands, for the first time since last night noticing the rings gleaming, and looking back up at her, he knew he could have caused greater damage and she had every right to be scared.

He stood in place, and then he finally heard a voice, but it was not Anne's. "Henry!" his mother's voice chided, honestly surprised at her son's behavior. She had not expected him to come to his wife angry, she had expected him to come humble and remorseful. She was with Anne until the sun rose, and she had not felt so tired in ages. Yet she was so sure that she had convinced her that Henry would come to her with an apology, just as sweet as he used to be, and would never step foot in another woman's bed. But instead he was angry, and he had frightened the wife she had taken all morning to calm down.

Her glare was a cold one, her usual loving face transformed into a formidable one. Henry felt his whole body shrink from it, and unbidden, he felt tears well in his eyes. His mother knew what had happened, and looking at her hand clasped in Anne's, he knew that it was true that Anne had taken his mother's affection. He could not convince himself that it was not rightfully so.

Of course Anne had gone to his family, who else could have protected her? She was frightened, he had broken her trust greatly and how could she knew he would not do it again? If she had gone to her father or brother, they would have had no power to stop him, and worse of all; her father probably would not have given a fig. Henry liked his father-in-law but wished he would treat his daughter with more respect, but he was aware enough to know that Thomas Boleyn would not do that if it caused him disfavor. Arthur was the only one with power to stop him, and his mother…he had never denied his dearest mother any of her requests. And Anne loved his mother as if she was her own, something that always touched him.

Anne needed her mother, and Henry just wished that it did not cause her to look at him like that, like she had never looked at him before. She had been disappointed with him, but never angry. She had always reserved her most gentle looks for him, her most loving smiles and reassurances.

_The thunder roared terribly, frightening his young sister, who crawled into their mothers arms on a hot June night. The three of them had been listening to their mother tell them a story, but the storm had drawn them to the window. Henry turned around to see Mary crying his mother's arms, and his mother was unable to soothe her. _

"_Mary," Henry said calmly, walking over to her crying figure. "God is just shouting at the bad people. You aren't a bad girl, are you?" He smiled when she shook her head furiously. "Then you have nothing to worry about," Henry finished, opening his arms for her to crawl into. He tickled her lightly under the ribs and then let her go, watching her run back to the window fearlessly. _

_He was going to follow her but his mother grabbed his arm before he could, a teary smile on her features. "That was very nice of you, Harry," his mother complimented, giving him a kiss. Henry smiled in response to her praise, and in a rare moment for the proud eleven year old Duke, he settled into her embrace and played with her red blonde hair, as if he was a small toddler again. She pushed her chin into his head and whispered quietly, so only he could hear her, "Even if you never marry or become King, you will always be my special prince."_

This was not the same mother who promised him that she would love him no matter what happened, and he knew that she hadn't changed. He had. He had comforted his sister in her moment of fear, just like he usually did with his wife and daughter, even with his own mother when she was frightened, but now _he_ was the one causing the fear instead of soothing it away.

He willed himself to calm down before speaking again, and he was pleased with how softly he sounded. "Mother, forgive me, could I please speak to Anne alone?"

Elizabeth, before even looking at Anne, refused to consider the option. Not if Henry was going to be cruel. Katherine and she had discussed never allowing Anne and Henry to be alone until Anne felt safe in her marriage, and she would not weaken for him, no matter how apologetic he now sounded. He had come into the room shouting and angry, regardless of his excuse, and she would not subject Anne to his violence anymore. She blamed herself for being so indulgent with him, allowing him to be lecherous before he was married and then never telling him to calm his constantly burning temper. She would not make that mistake again. "Absolutely not, Henry. You will not be given leave by me to treat your wife with violence, in your words and actions."

Anne looked over at Henry, and seeing the hurt look on his face, knew that she could rely on him not to strike her again, at least not today. She could not know about the future, especially if he had already worked himself into a temper again today, but she thought that Elizabeth's reprimand and distrust would be enough to make him feel guilty about what he had done. She would not need to worry for now. "Mother, it's alright," she assured the aged woman, patting her hand.

Elizabeth, not wanting to argue with Anne, nodded in approval. She got up and moved towards the door, not even glancing at Henry until she reached the curtain. "I will be right outside, so do not think to raise your voice or your arm. I will know right away," Elizabeth warned.

Anne stayed seated after Elizabeth left, making no move to welcome him as she usually did. Her face was still sore from the night before, and she was dreading the humiliation she would have to face later in the night, when she would have to go to the Great Hall for Christmas. Her ladies had probably already relayed the information to whoever they were working for, and she was sure that the Seymour slut, who had not bothered to come to her service today, was well aware of the rift in her marriage. No doubt she would try to take advantage of it, if she still could. Nevertheless, she could not bring herself to care.

Katherine and Elizabeth had assured her that Arthur would be furious on her behalf, denying Jane all honors she would hope to gain from her affair, and Henry would not be able to make such easy requests of Arthur anymore, unless Anne wanted it too. Anne had the most power she had ever had in her entire life, but she knew once Arthur died, Katherine could keep her safe anymore, and if Elizabeth ever fell out of favor with her son, and idea she never thought possible until recently, she would be utterly alone and at the mercy of Henry. She knew she had to accept his apology, if he ever made one, for the sake of her family and for her future, even if she was wary of him for the rest of her life.

Henry sat on the chair across from her where Elizabeth had been occupying, and thought twice about reaching for her hand. He did not want to feel the way he did when she first flinched from him, and he would not risk it. She did not move when he sat down across from her, a promising sign. "I am sorry, I did not mean to yell," he began gently. He would not explain to her why he was upset. He did not need to discuss with her now, possibly not ever. He had wronged her first, and so he would deal with it even if she had betrayed him, he knew she did not lack reason. Looking back into her eyes, he could not take his eyes off the purple bruise on her face and the blackness of her eye. He blurted out his first concern, "Have you seen a physician?"

"Katherine sent one down this morning," Anne responded blankly. She was touched by Katherine's worry, and even though sending her private physician so early in the morning would be unwelcome under most circumstances, Anne had not slept all night, so it was no hardship to receive him. He assured her that the swelling would go down, and nothing was broken, and that she was lucky to have only injured that part of her face being thrown from a horse. She knew that he was a smart man and probably was aware that she did not get thrown from a horse, but she knew that he worked for Katherine and as such, was well-versed at keeping secrets. "He assured me my face would heal just fine," she finished, looking at him with contempt.

She did not think there was a person alive who could fix the pain in her heart.

"Thank God!" Henry responded, perhaps too enthusiastically. Still, he had worried that he could have broken something or caused damage that would last forever. He would not want to look at the face of his wife and be reminded daily that he had done such an awful thing. It would be best forgotten, and he hoped in time, Anne and his daughter could forget too. Thinking of his daughter, pain rose in his stomach and he asked, "Where is Elizabeth?"

Anne frowned, thinking of how her daughter reacted. She had been in the nursery for the whole night, and Anne had her brought down after Elizabeth had gotten there, and she had never seen her daughter so distraught. She cried when she saw her face and demanded that she be taken to Henry so she could chide him for being so rude. Anne was touched at her protectiveness but did not want her to stay for when Henry came back, in case he thought that she had poisoned their daughter's mind against him. For all involved it would be better if she did not hate her father for what he did, or even resent him. Still, she could not figure out a way to explain to her clever child what had happened that would not make Henry look bad. Realizing she had not yet answered Henry, she sharply responded, "She is in her rooms now."

Finally, Henry could not take her coldness anymore. He reached out and clasped her hand, gently, as to not frighten her, but he could not mistake the fear in her eyes and she let out a plaintive little noise, one that he could tell she was trying to repress. "Anne, I am so sorry my love, please, please forgive me," he begged, tears forming in his eyes. He got down his knees, his emotions running forward fiercer than he had expected. He pressed his lips to her hand and stayed kneeled, ignoring her look of pain and confusion. "I love you more than I can explain and I am so unworthy of your love, wretched monster that I am!"

Despite herself, Anne felt tears well in her eyes, tears she had not wanted to cry in front of him. She had cried enough in front of the King, Queen and Elizabeth, she did not want to do it in front of the man that she knew she needed to stay strong in front of. Still, she could not help it, she loved him. She could only pray she could grow to trust him again, as she had always done in the past, before this whole sordid affair had started. With a clear voice she responded to his pleas, grabbing his chin so he had to look at her face. "Why did you do it? Why did you _have_ to do it? We were so happy." She wasn't just talking about the night before, and they both knew that.

"I want to be better," he responded honestly, as he could not answer her question truthfully. He did not know why he did it, when he had everything he had ever wanted since he was a little boy. He had no idea why he would risk that, and doing it for the sake of his own lust was an uncomfortable idea, one that he refused to consider or accept. "I don't want to do this anymore to you, or to our children. I love you and I cannot wait until our reign begins."

"Are you done with her?" she asked coldly. She did not want to discuss Jane in front of him ever again, but she had to know. If she was going to forgive him and walk on his arm with a true smile on her face that night, as if nothing was amiss in their marriage, she had to know.

"Yes," he answered automatically. She did not look convinced though, so he continued, "She is going to marry Charles as soon as I can arrange it." He knew it would upset her if she told him of his plan to ennoble Charles once he became King, so he thought better to tell her that. She just needed to know that Jane would no longer be his responsibility anymore. "I have also released her from your household," he lied, thinking that he could take care of that tomorrow. He knew Jane would not want to continue in her service now that she was assured marriage, and it would be uncomfortable for Anne to see her daily.

She could not bring herself to say thank you, so instead she simply nodded, at a loss for words. He had apologized and ended things with Jane, all that she had wanted, but yet there was the matter of their daughter. "We have to talk to Elizabeth together. She is very upset with you and I have no idea what to say to her," she explained.

"You forgive me then?" Henry asked, allowing himself, for the first time that entire day, to truly hope. He knew it would be a Christmas miracle if she would take him back so quickly, but then again, they had loved each other for years and with a passion he had never seen in any other couple. She had to forgive him, or else, what else was there? He wanted this woman by his side for the rest of his days, and he wanted them to be a family again, before he had done so many things to mar their dream. She still had not answered him, so he grabbed her hand again, forcing her to look at him. "I love you so much. I need you to forgive me. If you don't, I will not be able to go on."

"Will you do it again?" Anne asked, feeling weak for even asking. If she was like Katherine, she would not have asked, just trusted in God and in her husband, who would soon be King. But she was not born to be a Princess, to hide her true feelings and emotions. Even if it was the way she supposed to act, she loved her husband too much, wanted her marriage back too badly, to care any longer.

"Never, I promise on the life of my dearest mother and the life of our son, that I would never lay a violent hand on you again. If I do, you have my full permission to leave for France and not come back until I come to you on my knees," Henry vowed, throwing himself on her feet, tears soaking her shoes and the bottom of her gown. He did not if he was exhausted or simply overwhelmed by guilt, but either way, he had never felt more honest in his entire life.

Anne nodded fiercely, pulling him up to face her. "I forgive you." She felt Henry's lips on hers and his soft hand caress her bruise, and she felt, for the first time in nearly a year, loved.

_Did not expect this to be so long, but I felt that Henry had to go through this journey of redemption and self-discovery. I know some parts a bit repetitive, but I couldn't bring myself to go through a trim the fat, because I think all of these thoughts are necessary for characterization, etc etc. Anyway! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, it's one of my personal favorites, and since we are nearing the end, I really hope you guys continue to review and enjoy! Until next time, Marissa. _


	44. Chapter Forty Four

**Author's Note: **Welcome back! Thank you so much to everybody who reviewed last chapter, and especially to a Guest reviewer who went through and reviewed each chapter from the beginning. I'm very happy that you enjoyed this story, and I hope you all continue to do so. This chapter is very Anne-centric. Next chapter will involve almost every character, but this one was more mental. I hope it is enjoyable to you guys.

Thank you to Reganx, as usual.

_Disclaimer: _All historical liberties are taken with full knowledge of real events and are taken only for the purposes of the story. It's very AU. All recognizable characters are a property of Showtime and history. I don't write history, I just mess around with it ;]

Without further ado, please enjoy and don't forget to review!

* * *

**Hampton Court **

_January 10, 1530_

She was honestly surprised he did not come before this moment.

Her father was always the first to be kept abreast of her movements, as she had not bothered to figure out which member, or members, of her household was being asked to spy for him. To her it seemed futile, and besides, if she did expel the member of her household that betrayed her trust time after time to her father, she was sure that he would find another person to pay handsomely to betray her privacy. She just let him do it. She did not bother to tell him that if he simply asked her kindly, she would be more than happy to keep him updated. If he was going to be cruel and petty, she would not answer to him directly.

She knew that rumors about her marital rift had spread just as fast as she had anticipated, despite her ladies efforts to cover up her bruise from Henry's flash of temper she still appeared at Whitehall with noticeable marks. She could hear people talking brazenly, most of them were full of pity, but a few men coldly remarked that she must have done something to earn her husband's rough treatment of her.

She did not need to wonder what her father would say, even though he held his temper in longer than she expected, waiting until her Uncle Norfolk made a request to admit a Howard girl into her household, a request she granted with ease. She needed a replacement for Jane Seymour now that Henry had removed her from her household, gratefully, and her Howard relatives behaved well. She would have no need to fear one of them trying to seduce Henry; her uncle would not want that for their family. Though, if Henry were so inclined to take another mistress, she would not put it past her father or uncle to use any Howard relative to their advantage, so no other family could work their way into Henry's graces as much as they had.

Once she and her father were alone, she braced herself for the conversation. She knew her father would be worried and angry, emotions he did not dare show while they were at Whitehall. She had the protection of Arthur while she was there, and for all of her father's bravado, he would never dare upset the King of England. She knew that she could get Henry to reprimand her father again, or even Arthur, for his words towards her, but then he would lose his earldom, and then George would lose his inheritance. Despite everything that had occurred since her marriage, she did not want to see her father lose his status. She loved him still, and wanted her family to be of higher standing in any case. It would due her no good to still be considered the common daughter of a knight.

Her father grabbed her arm harshly and took her into her private chamber, pushing past her ladies in a huff, not bothering with the proper courtesies. "What have you done to upset your husband, you stupid girl?" he questioned roughly. If this were normal circumstances, Thomas Boleyn would have been more horrified to know that his daughter had been struck by her husband. He knew that Mary had been treated kindly by her first husband, and he no longer cared about her, but while she was in his good graces and part of his family, he would have perhaps had a word with her husband, as he was a knight and Boleyn was an earl now, but there could be no question of him siding with Anne.

His son-in-law was fond of him, he knew it. He often advised him closely, vying for the chance to become his chief confidante once he assumed his throne, if he was able to outmaneuver the willy Cardinal Wolsey. He needed Anne to make sure that he would continue to reap the benefits of her marriage that they had so carefully arranged for her, and not to let her passions and jealously make the Duke lose his love for her. If he took the Duke to task for laying a hand on his daughter, he would lose everything. Better to act as the father who knew what his daughter's place was, and not to stand up for her. It was her husband's right to hit her, and he knew that's how the Duke would see it.

If these were normal circumstances, he would have consoled her as much as he could have, perhaps trying to obtain some sort of cooling ointment to ease the burn or to fade the bruise so she would not have to face the stigma of having a husband who beat her openly. But she was the future Queen of England, and it was her job to advance their family. He loved her, but he needed her as well, and he needed her not as a battered and scared wife, but as the woman who could be regal when she needed to be. He was proud of his daughter, but if she was not careful, they could lose so much.

They stopped having a normal relationship the moment that they both knew she could become the Duchess of York.

"I did nothing, papa!" Anne protested. "And you will address me with respect," she added in afterthought. It was useless, she knew that if she ended up Queen for fifty years and her father lived to see it, he would never accord her that respect. He would treat her same as he always had; his daughter, his property, and the method of his advancement. The papa who lavished her with a glorious education and treated her like a princess before she was truly one had vanished the moment her mother had died. The man in front of her was not the man that she loved as a father.

Boleyn sighed. He knew Anne was going to be difficult about this, but even so, he could not find it in his heart to be gentle, not when the stakes were so high. Anne would never cease to be the Duchess of York and the future Queen of England as long as she and her sons stayed alive, but being his _beloved_ wife was entirely in the balance. The Duke would grow resentful and bitter, taking to bed other women and leaving his wife, and by extension her family, out of his thoughts and his inner circle. If Anne was just his wife in name only, it meant nothing, as he was unlikely to see his grandson assume the throne. He needed the Duke to stay madly in love with Anne, even if she no longer felt it with him.

"You took him to task about his mistress, did you not?" he followed, not addressing her concern about her title or her refusal. He was not a stupid man, stupid men did not rise this far. He took her silence as conformation and continued, "I told you that Mistress Seymour meant nothing. He could take a thousand women to bed but you would still be his wife, and he would want you to act like the current Queen and not some jealous wench!"

Anne felt her eyes well up with tears, tears she promised herself she would not waste on her father again. If he would not act like he loved her, then she would not love him. The family she had married into was the family that she wanted now. They had accepted her despite everything; her commoner status and shaky grasp of protocol did not stop all of them from loving her. Her father expected too much out of her, it was just was not fair for all of her family's ambitions to be on her conscience. She knew any normal man would want to take advantage of the fact that their daughter had risen so high, and her father did have his own merits which had given her a place at court. But to treat her like she was nothing was not what she wanted from all of this.

"I did what I thought was right, for our marriage and our family, neither of which concern you. My husband and my marriage are mine, not yours, or any other man's," Anne shot back. Her father had always worried about her position, even though he of all people should know that it was secure. She always knew her father as a shrewd man, so surely he should understand that even though the slap had physically burned Anne, it had done wonders for their marriage, even if she was wary and uncomfortable around him. Perhaps that was the point, after all, if their marriage were run by Henry's affections than he was not shy about them anymore, and he was doing everything in his power to make her feel comfortable around him again, for her coldness disturbed him.

Jane Seymour had been sent back to her family's home at Wolf Hall, to marry Brandon at the earliest convenience. She had taken her leave of Anne, and while Anne wanted to rail against her and humiliate her, she could not blame her for all of her marriage's woes. Besides, the bruise on her cheek burned, not even makeup could hide it at that point. She did not want to give her the pleasure of thinking that she caused the Duke of York to beat his wife. It would give her false notions of her own superiority, and make her think that she should have been the Duchess of York, mother of Henry's children. She would not let that happen.

Though she did not give two figs who the wench married, she did worry about Brandon and his children. He had stayed a widower for so long, and she feared for his family life if Jane Seymour were to interrupt it. Frances Brandon had never known her mother, surely bringing in a strange woman would only serve to confuse her. Selfishly, she also wondered if Henry having Jane marry his closest friend, a man Anne was fond of as well, was just an excuse to keep Jane near him, so they could continue their dalliance. She did not want to believe it was true, but how could she trust him?

Even so, her father had nothing to worry about. Henry was more determined than ever to make sure that she was happy and content in their marriage, and to gain her trust back. She wasn't sure if it would be so easily given, but for the sake of their children, she would try.

She frowned at the memory of Henry going to beg for Lisbeth's forgiveness. As Anne expected, it did not go as planned, and he had not only one, but three of his children turned against him.

_Anne went in first. It was better that way. She made sure that Lisbeth was out of her nap and that she was free to receive them. She did not want to disturb the girl's schedule, for surely this would be one of the more defining moments of her formative years. She was dressed in a pretty gown of green silk, looking more and more like the beautiful Tudor princess Anne knew she would become, whose portrait would be a shiny carrot for her marriage prospects. She smiled when Anne bent down to hug her, but frowned when she saw Henry. _

"_What do you want?" she asked sharply, so much that Anne could tell she had startled Henry. Lisbeth, for her part, did not care about her papa's feelings. She saw what he did; saw how she hurt her mama! It was not fair! Mama loved her papa and was the best mama in the whole world, nobody should ever hit her. _

_She had told Hal and Edward about it straight away. They should know that their papa was mean to their mama, even if Hal wasn't really mama's son which is why he wasn't the Earl of Kendal and Edward was, but Lisbeth knew that Hal would be just as angry. And Edward was still a baby, but he was a smart baby, and very protective over their mama. When they had to go to the Great Hall for Christmas the day after, Lisbeth was surprised that her mama was so cheerful, but she saw the way her Uncle Arthur and Aunt Katherine looked at her papa. They had known and did not forgive him, and so Lisbeth wouldn't either, and she knew her brothers felt the same way. _

_If her papa was really sorry, why was her mama so scared looking when she came to the nursery? Lisbeth put her small, chubby hand on her mother's bruised cheek and glared at her papa when he didn't answer her. "Did you tell mama you were sorry?" Lisbeth asked. She knew her mama would make her papa sorry for what he did to her, but still, she did not know if she could forgive him so easily, even though she loved her papa just as much as her mama. But she knew her mama would never do something like that to him! _

_Henry knelt down and tried to clear his mind to speak plainly to the little girl, who he saw so much of himself in. Her temper was the same that caused him to kick his grandmother when his own beloved mother was hurt, and was the same that caused him to question his stern father's judgment. He tried to do differently than his father, but he feared that it would all come out weak to the intelligent daughter, his first born with Anne, his beautiful princess. _

_Anne and he had discussed lying, but both of them felt it was unfair. They did not know how much of the argument she had heard, and the both knew that she was the brightest of their children. He mustered his courage and reached for his daughter's hand, stunned and hurt when she pulled away. He wiled himself to speak, perhaps then she wouldn't look at him so coldly with Anne's eyes. "I made a terrible mistake, and got very angry at your mama when I shouldn't have. I am very sorry, and will work the rest of my life to make sure that your mama knows that, and that you do as well. I never wanted you to see such things." _

"_But you hurt her, and she had to act like nothing happen," Lisbeth protested. She thought her mama was very brave, she overheard her Aunt Katherine say as much to her grandmother, but she still didn't think it was fair. If it was her papa's fault, why did her mama have to be brave about it?_

_Anne spoke up, knowing it would mean more coming from her. "I am a very important person, and people must see me happy at all times, for when I am Queen, I will be their example. When you grow older and have a husband and children of your own, you may have to pretend to be happy when you may dislike the food or the way your ladies did your hair. It is our duty as royal ladies," Anne explained, tucking a lose strand of hair behind her daughter's ears and looking directly at her. She softened it for her daughter's sake, but she knew it was true. If it was one thing Katherine and Elizabeth had taught her, it was that. _

_Henry placed his hand on Anne's shoulder and looked down at Lisbeth. "I hope you can forgive me, my sweet girl. Your approval means more to me than you'll ever know," Henry stated earnestly. He was hoping that showing that Anne did not flinch away from him (even if he did feel her muscles tighten from underneath her gown) showed that he was forgiven and that they would be a family again. _

_Lisbeth eyed him curiously. "You have to tell the boys you are sorry too. And you must tell mama every single day. And buy her pretty things and treat her nicer!"_

_As if on cue, Hal and Edward emerged, looking at Henry coldly. He had never felt so intimidated by children in his life, and he never thought to be made to feel like this by his own children. He looked at Anne and saw her look of shock and horror, but he knew it was warranted. Why should his children idolize him when he had hurt their mother? "I am sorry, for what I did to your mother, and to this family. I truly am." _

_The three of them eyed him with reasonable suspicion, and then, in unison they told him their bottom line, "We will forgive you, but we won't forget." _

Anne was worried Henry would blame her, thinking that she turned their children away from him. But she was pleasantly surprised when he just accepted their judgment, knowing that Lisbeth had seen what happened with her own eyes. Anne did not wish to turn her children away from their father. That would not be good for them when they were older, and the royal family would have to put on a united front, as King Arthur has always stressed. Her brother-in-law took his responsibility seriously and Anne would hate to see his disappointment if the York family was fractured.

Still, she could not forget the look Edward gave his father, such a fierce look from their little boy. Edward was Henry's favorite, regardless of what he could say about his fathering skills for their other children, who despite his apparent love of his heir, they were still fond of him until recently. Lisbeth thought neither of them could do no wrong, and Hal admired and idolized his father. She was proud of her children for knowing that it was wrong for Henry to treat her poorly, but for them to appraise him so harshly was not what she wanted.

"You had no right to do it. Do you know what's at stake? Everything!" Her father broke her from her thoughts, and looked at him coldly and opened her mouth to speak, but he spoke too quickly. "If you lose his love, everything is lost, for all of us. I will not be a Duke or rise to the top of his favor without it!" he theorized.

Anne laughed at him, even though she knew that would just inflame his anger. He was worried about losing his spot as the King's closest advisor? Anne, and everybody else, knew that position was already Cardinal Wolsey's or even Charles Brandon's. Never her father's. Yet, she knew if she wanted to, she could get him into that position, and get some member of their loyal faction to become Lord Chancellor instead of Wolsey, but she did not want to tell him that. She was fond of Wolsey despite his association with the Pope in Rome, whose authority she was too imposing for a country he was so removed from, but he worked well for Henry and she knew that he loved him. She was not willing to make overtures in that direction, especially not for her father.

"Henry will only love those in my family whom I love as well. I suggest, for your sake, that you accord me and my children with the respect we deserve, and to be cordial with me if you wish to raise high, father," Anne sharply responded. She knew her threats were mostly empty. She still could not find hatred in her heart for her family, especially her siblings. Her father had turned cold after the death of her mother, but she could not even find fault in him for that still. She put her hand to her cheek, who would she have left if not her natural born family? How could she count on her own survival and happiness without allies?

Boleyn's face softened with his daughter's response to his own harshness. He felt sick to think that she would have to fear his cruelty on top of her husband's. He resolved to keep his voice softer. "You are right, of course," he conceded, forcing himself to smile kindly despite his worry. "But he must also love you too, my darling, or not even you will rise. You will be Queen in name only, what good is that?"

Anne smiled slyly, thinking of how desperately Henry had been trying to make her feel comfortable in their marriage again, and another small laugh escaped her lips. "I will be as docile as you wish father, but you must do something for me as well. I must be careful with my favor, after all." Anne knew that was a lie. If she gave Henry a million demands she knew all of them would be met. She would give it all back for just a moment of peace, where she could lay in his arms without the distrust she felt in her heart, or not to flinch at the first sign of his tone turning slightly harsh. But she would never tell her father that. He would think it weak and dangerous, and aside from that, the more that she could hold her father responsible for his words, the more power she would wield in their family, and the better off she and her children would be.

"Anything," Boleyn choked, not without difficultly.

"I want Mary back." It was all she had thought about since she and Henry fought. Her sister would have had the exact right words to say to her, would have made her feel safe. Elizabeth of York was a good woman, one that Anne loved very much, but her sister was her best friend, the only woman her own age that she could truly trust. She missed her more than she thought she would, they had been together all of the time since they were girls. It was very cruel of her father to keep her away for so long. Anne knew a lesson had to be learned, and they had to show Arthur and Henry that she took her role as the future Queen of England seriously, seriously enough so she would not let her sister marry a commoner without punishment, but Mary had been gone for too long. She wanted her sister.

Boleyn sighed deeply. "I will write to her," he responded. He did not want to, but if Anne was asking it of him, he knew he needed to. The happier he kept her; the more beneficial it would be for him. As far as he was concerned, he owed Mary nothing; she had not understood her duty like Anne or sought to advance their family with the same vigor. Mary was lucky Anne gave her any thought, because he would have been content to let her rot in her country hovel.

However, he would not let his daughter completely gain the upper hand on him. To do so would put him entirely at her mercy, something he could not allow. "I have a favor to ask as well," he began, thinking of his earlier conversation with Norfolk. Wolsey was dangerous, the Duke of York was far fonder of him than any of his other courtiers, and the man was already Archbishop of York and King Arthur once favored him above all others, before the Queen saw him as an enemy. He had his own international presence; he knew the King of France paid him a pension when he was in King Arthur's service, and he was sure that it was still continuing now, with the promise of the new King's favor once he assumed his throne. It did not bode well for any of them if a Cardinal of the Catholic Church became Henry's most trusted advisor once he became King.

"Yes?" Anne asked tiredly, already done with this interview by her father. His presence exhausted her. It made her wish that she could at least feign pregnancy, because then she knew he would not bother her so much, even if she did upset him.

"Cardinal Wolsey cannot be allowed to rise too high once Henry becomes King. When you can, speak ill of him to your husband. I know that they have been close for a lifetime, but it is so important that you stop his ambitions. I am sure that they will interfere with ours," Boleyn explained, trying to stress the need to his daughter. He did not know her opinion of Wolsey and he did not particularly care either. He just needed him gone.

She would have, two years ago perhaps, ask what he wanted her to say, to make sure that she could carry her father's plan through. She would try as hard as she could to get Wolsey out of the way for her father. But now… she was not so sure that she wanted to. Wolsey could be a powerful ally, one that if she played correctly, could keep her and her children safe if Henry ever did want to be wrathful again. Perhaps they would never be friends, she was sure Wolsey would be weary of her due to her religious opinions, but she needed allies outside of her family or Henry's. She thought of Katherine, how the Spanish Ambassador and the Imperial one were constantly courting her favor, and how she always seemed to have her own power base aside from Arthur. She knew that Thomas More loved the Queen and did everything in his power to advance her interests, even in the rare occasion that they were not the King's.

A man like Wolsey would be a good friend to have when she was Queen, and could prove to be a bad enemy to many people.

Still, she smiled at her father, as if it was no hardship for her to do this service for him. "Of course, papa. The Cardinal means nothing to me."

* * *

**Hampton Court Chapel **

_A Week Later_

He had wondered if he should attend this meeting at all.

Everybody, especially somebody like Wolsey who had taken it upon himself to know the comings and goings of both Hampton and Whitehall, knew that the Duke and Duchess of York had gotten into a physical altercation recently. He did not want to be seen siding with the Duchess, regardless of his sympathy for the lady that he had grown fond of since she had married his old student. Anne Boleyn was a smart, charming, intelligent individual, whose interest in France aligned with his own.

He certainly did not want to incur Henry's wrath for meeting with his wife, but he saw the way that he attended to her, and his spies informed him that the Duke had been making grand overtures towards his wife, and lavishing more gifts on her and their children, and shunning Mistress Seymour. If anything, he now believed that refusing to meet with Anne would make Henry cross with him, something he was determined to avoid. Everybody at Hampton knew that the Duke of York took his sport with Charles Brandon and his consul from Cardinal Wolsey. Any upset in that balance could cause men to usurp his place, men such as Anne's uncle or father.

He needed her friendship as long as Henry continued to dote on her like he had always done. A small rift was clearly not enough to break the marriage, a love match by all accounts. He would certainly not risk her wrath either, if this were the case. And it was the first time she had directly asked to meet with him, in an unusual spot. The Chapel was often empty at this time of day, as it was a break between masses. Wolsey would do the evening one, but he still had some moments to spare. Even if it was a hardship to meet with her, he would take it on gladly. He was so close to his dream that he wouldn't let something as silly as this get in his way.

Perhaps, they could help each other; after all, it was not as if she lacked the influence. Surely she would want an English Pope, just as much as any powerful Englishman would? As Pope, Wolsey would have the highest office in the land, and could do England's biding. He needed the French vote, and perhaps she could deliver it for him with agreeing to ally herself with the French once she became Queen. He thought Katherine of Aragon was a fool to not take advantage of him, for she could have delivered the three great powers to his side. Instead, she was far too interested in the interests of her home country, something that would not be a problem with the Duchess of York.

She looked radiant as she walked in, some foolish men at court (the commons adored her- for all of her charity) may whisper and say that she had seduced Henry unnaturally, but he would never think that. The Duchess was beautiful, just as beautiful as any other royal princess come over to England. He may have wanted his former pupil to have married French, but as far as he was concerned, Anne was a good choice, as long as she proved to be friend and not foe.

She smiled amiably at him as she held her hand out for him to kiss and motioned for him to sit down. "Cardinal Wolsey, I hope I have found you well," she began, trying to ignore the way he looked at her face, still slightly bruised. She had tried valiantly to cover it up once Henry apologized to her, and even though it had faded greatly and the pain had gone away, her husband was strong and had left an impact that was a constant reminder. Arthur especially had written to her a few times since she had left Whitehall, reminding her to stay strong and telling her she had nothing to be ashamed of.

She had never felt so envious of Queen Katherine for having a husband that would never betray her and humiliate her in the way Henry did.

"Thank you, your grace. You look dazzling," he replied, admiring her gold gown and thinking that he should buy a new gown for Joan soon. His mistress was a good woman, accepting her disgrace out of love for him. Try as she might though, his Joan would never sparkle the way Anne did, even if he could trace sadness in her eyes, sadness he hoped he would never cause his Joan to suffer. The Duchess looked regel even in her suffering, looking nothing like the French girl she was when she arrived in England all those years ago. She looked like she was born to be Queen; something he knew was in part to the Queen Katherine and the Dowager Queen.

Anne smiled despite the clear flattery. She had not slept well in weeks and she still felt the lingering fat from her last childbirth. She feared she would never regain the shape she once held with confidence. How was she supposed to keep Henry without her looks? Not letting herself dwell on it for too long, as she had business to attend to, Anne continued, "You are a diplomatic man, Cardinal. I fear, as I am just a poor woman, newly come into my position, that I lack the grace that you do. I would very much like it if we could speak plainly to each other."

"Of course, your grace. I consider us to be the best of friends, who should be transparent," he replied smoothly, still unsure of where the conversation was heading.

Anne merely nodded, and then she got straight to her point. "I know that many here at court think that I am falling out of favor with my husband. But I assume since you agreed to meet me here, in a deserted place, you too think my position in an awkward place- not quite in or out of favor. I came to assure you that it would be unwise to think that my husband and I were not the utmost devoted to each other, as we have always been," Anne explained. She knew it was only a half-truth, but she did not need Cardinal Wolsey as a confidante, she had her sister, Elizabeth and Katherine for that. She needed him as an ally.

"I never would have presumed your graces to have a falling out. You seem, as always, very much in love, and every man and woman here at Hampton, indeed, in the whole of Christendom, has reason to be jealous," Wolsey responded daftly, pointedly ignoring the bruise on her face. If they wanted a façade, he would not be the one to deny it to them. Besides, he had reasons to believe she was telling the truth.

"Excellent, I am warmed to hear this. Now, to the business of what will happen in a few years, when Henry and I assume our inheritance. My father and uncle, unfortunately, will not rest unless they have all of the power that they can gather. They want to set either themselves, or a man completely in our family's purse, in my husband's inner circle once he is King. They do not trust you, and have asked me to talk poorly of you to my husband," Anne explained bluntly, feigning sadness and helplessness at the prospect. Even if she was sure Wolsey could read through her supposed pity, she did not think that he would dare question her about it, nor would he tell others that she was callous about it.

Wolsey tried, not without difficultly, to keep his face composed. Surely she would not tell him this if she intended to do it, unless she was as foolish as she tried to come off to him? He did not think she was, after all, she had gotten the Duke of York to marry her, a daughter of a knight. He could recognize her ambition and shrewdness, being the son of a butcher raised to a Cardinal. "I shall pray that his grace knows that I am his most loyal servant, dedicated to him and only him. I will advance, of course, your grace's interests as well as that of your children's, if they are, as you say, aligned with your devoted husband's," Wolsey explained. He would not bow to her so easily, or be so easily blackmailed.

"Nevertheless, my good Cardinal, you hold so many offices and titles, and have amassed a great deal of wealth, that any reasonable man could think you to be more loyal to his Holiness than to my husband," Anne countered, not letting herself lose the higher ground. "Perhaps I would be worried, if I thought that you did not want something more than to be the Lord Chancellor of England. But I hear the climate in Rome agrees with you more than London's."

Wolsey had enough decency to look surprised. "I am forever devoted to his grace. I have been since I was a young man and he was just a boy. Becoming Pope would tear me from him…" Wolsey began, but he was cut off by her sharp voice, different than the tone she had adapted earlier.

"His grace is well aware of your loyalty, which is why my father fears you," Anne explained quickly, not wanting to hear his assurances. She knew what he wanted, and while she disagreed entirely with the way that the Pope held the Christian Kings in such a yoke, she knew it would be beneficial to her if Wolsey sat as the head of the Catholic Church. He would never dare act against Henry, not if he owed him so much, and reports of Luther's heresy would worry him enough not to upset the country disconnected from the rest of Europe by water. And she could continue to receive her gifts from her former French mistress, the Duchess Marguerite, the King of France's sisters.

Her gifts were treasured to her, books about the growing call for Reformation. She hid them well; fearful that Thomas More would find them, as not even her status could save her at that point. Katherine and Arthur would disagree, and although she would not get burnt at the stake, she could lose her friends and their love, and even Henry could be cross with her. She needed time to show them to him, before his mind would be closed.

It could be dangerous having a Pope in power from England, who would know of her supposed heresy, but as far as Anne was concerned, as long as she held this over him, the ability to crush him if she wanted to- and as long as her children remained pawns in his fight to gain votes, she thought it was a risk worth taking. Even if he never fulfilled his ambition, as it was difficult and expensive, at least the Lord Chancellor would be one who understood her. She did not want to supplant Wolsey just have Henry turn to his other former tutor, the dogmatic More.

"What is that you want from me, then, madam, if you simply wish to depose me?" Wolsey asked with just as much bluntness as she employed. If she was going to be plain with him, then he supposed it was better for him not to honey his words. Secretly, he was impressed with how well she maneuvered around him, but he would never admit it, not when he could not sense her angle.

"It is no secret, to those who have spies in my household, that I am in favor of reform," she paused to give him a moment to deny it, but it appeared he gave up on making her think that he was all smiles and sweetness. "I wish to continue reading and discussing with people these ideas when I am Queen, and I want my husband and his advisors to understand that. I believe we can be of service to each other, despite the outer trappings of your office."

"I will not trouble you, your grace," he hastened to assure her, knowing that he would never dare risk the enmity of the Duke if he took his wife to task on her religious views. Even if he would dare, it was not worth losing his position, if Anne was going to speak poorly of him to Henry if he did not let her practice in peace. He did not really care about learned men and women reading such books that were banned by His Holiness, as long as England stayed a part of the Holy See. An afterthought, he added, "but the current Chancellor has no such qualms about finding heretics."

"I know that, and I have been very careful what I say and whom I say it to. I know the King and Queen, for all their great love for me, would not be keen on me reading such books. But in any case, I am glad to hear that you are not so militant," Anne replied with a smile, thinking she could trust him, as much as these men could be trusted. "An English Pope would be good, something that I would be willing to support. But I need you to promise me a few things."

"And you will not speak ill of me to your husband?" Wolsey asked, trying to hide his glee at her words. She seemed to understand him better than he could have possibly hoped for. It appeared he had underestimated her.

"No, as long as you propose a French alliance once Henry becomes King, and start convincing him now that marrying the Lady Elizabeth to a French Prince would be in England's benefit, and of course, yours. And perhaps Edward could be married to one of the Emperor's daughters?" Anne explained. She had thought about it for a long time. She would be far more comfortable with her daughter, who she knew she was going to lose, to go to France instead of anywhere too much farther. Elizabeth would no longer be hers or Henry's, but she knew that the King of France would treat her well while he lived, and then she could have a chance to be Queen of France, since she knew how fragile the lives of King Francis' sons had already proved to be. Even without a crown on her head, her daughter could do great things, and she wanted her to be safe doing them.

And she knew Wolsey wanted a French alliance more than anything and was upset when he was thwarted by Arthur time after time for an Imperial one; but she also knew Katherine wanted an imperial one. She could appease both, and have another Spanish-English Queen, something that had to appeal to Katherine more than her daughter going to Spain to marry the Emperor's eldest son, even if they would make her Queen and potentially Empress someday.

"You want me to leave you unmolested in your religion and arrange the marriages that you want for your children?" Wolsey asked, amazed that this is all she wanted from him in exchange for helping him get the Pope's throne and to make him a powerful advisor to her husband. He knew that the French alliance would be beneficial for them both, but why would she not want her family in power, who certainly could do the same thing?

Anne smiled, knowing that it sounded so easy to him. He wanted a French alliance so he could get his pension and his seat in Rome. She wanted everybody to know that reform was important, and if a Cardinal acting as Chancellor said nothing, then surely it would be desirable for many people- and her religious and charitable works would gain that much more credence. And aside from that, she had an ally, one not tied through blood or marriage. Even if it was made through blackmail, she felt that there was no going back on her and Wolsey.

"Yes, and I want you to be loyal to me, as loyal to me as you are to Henry. Make no mistake, Cardinal, you are mine."

* * *

"You are cheerful today," Elizabeth remarked, eyeing Anne with gleeful suspicion as the younger woman sat across from her, wearing a smile that had been too rare in recent days. It made her heart swell with joy, for the first time in what had been a stressful month. All she wanted to do was rest, but how could she, when her children needed her so much still. She shivered at the thought of what would have happened if Katherine and herself were not there for Anne after Henry had abused her.

She wished she had such friends when she was Queen. Perhaps she would not have spent so many nights fearing the worst- fearing for the loss of her children, for the loss of her husband's love, for her own death at the hands of neglectful doctors or insane mother-in-laws. She never wanted that fate for Anne or Katherine, and she was determined at any cost to do her best to make sure their lives were always comfortable. She never had to worry with Arthur, but her younger son had not shown such restraint. It was a fault in his upbringing, and she could not help but blame herself. She would do what she could, for the rest of her life, to correct it.

"I had a wonderful discussion with Cardinal Wolsey this afternoon," Anne replied, sipping on her wine slyly, waiting for their supper to come. She had not felt her appetite this strongly for a very long time, since the birth of William. Henry had asked to share her bed that night, still respectful of the ban, just to be close to her. She wanted to reject him, but she actually felt safe enough to have him next to her, if perhaps for a night. She felt powerful, and needed. Even if Henry lost his temper with her again, or even worse, turned away from her, she would have the alliance of powerful men at court, and Henry's own family. She was not alone, and she would have the power to keep her children's positions secure.

Elizabeth simply smiled, trying not to look at the English bible in the corner of the room. She did not want to start an argument about Anne's religious beliefs, it was better left unsaid. Katherine also showed shrewd restraint, knowing that upsetting Anne would do no good. She was optimistic of Anne trying to make friends with the Cardinal, even if she did not entirely trust Wolsey herself. She knew it was only a matter of time before Katherine lost her resolve, and accused Anne of meddling with heresy. Even if Katherine hated Wolsey, she could not deny that he represented the very power that the growing reformation tried to dismantle. Anne could not to be willing to destroy the Church's power in England once she became Queen if she was friends with Wolsey.

Nevertheless, Anne seemed happy, and that was important. It was a hopeful sign for the reconciliation that Elizabeth so hoped to facilitate between her son and his wife. "And you and Henry?" Elizabeth asked, trying not to pry too much, but she was genuinely concerned for the state of their marriage. Henry was wrong, but Anne had to forgive him. It would break her heart if she were to die without seeing them just as much in love as they used to be.

Anne sighed, but knew that Elizabeth meant well. "He will be joining me tonight after we are done with supper. As long as he continues to make a valiant effort, I will not be cold towards him," Anne explained. She was not willing to put in the same amount of work into her marriage anymore, not after she had spent nearly a year trying to get Henry to leave his mistress and prove his love to her. She was scared of trying to get him to love her, scared of his abuse and his anger. She did not want to risk her own life or her children's place in their father's heart. He had not fathered any bastards since their marriage, but what could stop him if he was not worried about her love?

She knew that he was not a patient man; she could only get him to dance on attendance to her for so long before he grew tired and irritated. She did not want to refuse him for this reason, even if she did not trust him anymore. She certainly did not feel her heart swell with the same admiration and tenderness when they saw each other, when they were obligated to make public appearances. Her skin did not burn with desire when he held her hand and kissed it. When he kissed her lips she occasionally felt bile rise in her throat.

She could never tell Elizabeth this, but she knew that she needed to pretend, for her own sake as well as those around her. She hoped, eventually, she would not need to pretend any longer and her emotion would stop being feigned and feel real again.

Elizabeth smiled in response and the two women talked about various things throughout supper, never once touching on Henry or even Anne's conversation with Wolsey. She did not think Elizabeth would understand her need for an ally outside of her family- after all, from what she knew of Elizabeth's time as queen, her political ambition was limited greatly, and her influence over her children's lives was nil. Katherine would understand, but she would not agree on her choice of ally. She hated Wolsey more than Anne ever thought the pious woman capable of.

She was anxious for her sister to return, so she could share these things again. The last few months were unbearable without her; she had never felt more alone. If she had Henry's devotion, love and friendship, like the early days of their marriage, Mary's absence would have felt less profound. She had spent more nights crying herself to sleep than she cared to admit, and the ladies that slept around her either did not hear her or did not care to hear. She knew Mary would have woken her up and soothed her gently.

She was proud of herself, too. Proud of herself for securing his friendship and his loyalty and proud of herself for pushing forward her daughter's future. She needed to feel that confidence again, that strength would have to come from within more than it used to, but it was still there. She knew that she could not relay on others forever, or at all. Elizabeth did not have a grasp of power the same way Katherine did- and Katherine would surely not agree with all of her motivations. Arthur could comfort her but he could not always keep her safe. Her children needed a mother to be strong for them, to advance their interests in an intimate way only she could. She would not shrink at the task.

They worked on needlework silently until Henry came, and Anne observed their greeting from a distance. Elizabeth was stiff when she hugged her son, and that was not from age. She always envied Henry for how warmly his mother would hug and kiss him, compliment his appearance and ask about his life. She had never received that from her father or her mother, but she feared that she had taken it away from him. Her own lashing out at Henry had caused his mother to stop loving him the way that she used to. Part of her wanted to be grateful that somebody had the power to make Henry understand how much he could hurt people and how badly it hurt to have somebody that once loved him turn away from him- much the same that he had done to her.

But when she looked at the scene unfolding before her, all she felt was consuming guilt; similar to the way she felt when she saw her son give Henry a dark look. Her father's words came rushing back to her, making her breath hitch. She did not need to confront him the way she did. She could have been calmer. She pushed him to hit her. She made her prideful and royal husband, the man who raised her from commoner to Duchess and would raise her to Queen, she made him come to her on his knees and beg her forgiveness. She owed everything to him, and she had made him hit her.

When they exchanged pleasantries and climbed into bed together, she nuzzled close to him, not bringing herself to an apology, not yet. Part of her brain rebelled against the notion of her own culpability. Elizabeth, Katherine and Arthur all told her that Henry was to blame, but there were others just as willing to lash out against her, put her in the wrong. She had turned her children against him and turned her own body and love against him. Perhaps in some small way, their marriage needed it, and it was a sacrifice that she should bare. Perhaps she did push him. Perhaps she was ungrateful and playing with fire.

"You are stiff, darling," Henry whispered, not wanting to wake her just in case she truly was asleep. He loved the feeling of her body against his; the feeling was far too foreign in recent months. But she was not soft and welcoming; her body was cold and hard, and not molded to his the way it used to be. He reached his hand and moved her hair out of her eye, tracing his finger around the outline of her fading bruised eye. "Did my mother say something to upset you?" he asked, fearing the worst. He would never dare critique his mother to her face, but he thought that recently, she had meddled far too much, and had put a gulf between him and Anne, even though he knew she was just trying to help.

"No!" she immediately recoiled from his body, shooting up at looking at him. "Of course not. I just… the children. I fear that we have torn a rift in our family." Realizing that his warmth was gone and his body language was defeated, she put herself back in his arms, trying to enjoy the feeling.

Maybe it was her fault just as much as it was his. The idea was uncomfortable, and against everything she had thought a week ago. But the voices of the past few weeks swarmed her head and would not stop fighting with each other.

"What did you do to upset your husband?"

"A man has the right to hit his wife, especially if she is an ungrateful sow."

"The Duchess should be grateful she has even got a husband and children, just look at poor Queen Katherine, saddled with a weakling! Who cares if he hits her?"

Henry sighed, his heart filled with guilt and sadness. Yet, if he wanted to fix this, he had to stay strong. "It will all be well, I promise you. Go to sleep now, fretting will do you no good," Henry reasoned, kissing the top of her head before blowing out the candle and settling down into sleep, much easier than recent nights with his wife next to him.

Anne tried valiantly, eventually drifting into a fitful sleep.

_Redness engulfed her, and she could see nothing else. _

_She reached out to Elizabeth and Katherine but they faded into the red. Her children too, gone, before she could reach them. Henry stood at the other end of the abyss, laughing, his green eyes shining with anger she had only seen once before, before his hand met her face. _

_She turned to reach out, one last time, to Arthur. He was the only one left. He kissed her hand with reverence before apologizing. His mouth moved but there was nothing coming out. She knew though. He would follow his wife into wherever she went, into the red. Henry's head twisted until a crown rested on top of it, and she felt a strong arm clasp around her neck. _

_Her father's eyes stared back at the mirror, in a vacant white room. The Queen's crown rested on her head, but her face was not beautiful. It was ugly and marred, puffy from abuse and unrecognizable. Her body was deformed, too large to even be fully represented in the mirror, her hair matted and grey. Her father was smiling, but all she could do was scream. _

"Anne!" Henry shook her, trying to refrain from violence, knowing that it would frighten her more, but her screams were getting louder. "Anne you must wake up, you are having a bad dream!"

"I cannot be Queen!" she shot up screaming, her brow wet with sweat. She had been having bad dreams, mostly reoccurrences of Henry's fight with her, but she had not dreamt so vividly yet. It frightened her more than she could convey in words, and especially not to Henry. He would take it personally and blame himself. To tell Elizabeth or Katherine would risk that Henry would grow cross with her for involving them in their marriage. Mary was still on her way from the country; her brother and father too set on their own advancement.

"What?" he asked, concerned. She had never voiced such a thought before. Was she rethinking their marriage, hoping to find a way out of the burden that would soon be theirs? The idea of being King without her hurt him deeply, and scared him. He would not lose her!

"It is nothing, my love. A terror of sleep. My whole family has them from time to time. I must have had too much wine at dinner," Anne lied, smiling sweetly before settling back into his arms. His devotion to fixing their relationship would ensure he would not question her any further.

She resolved to write to the last person she could think of in the morning, to talk about her conflicting feelings and her nightmares. King Arthur was the most sympathetic ear she could think of.

* * *

_Dearest brother,_

_I regret to bother you, knowing that your station requires you to have only a few leisure hours per day. I have been plagued with guilt and terror in my sleep. My sleep grows short and each time Henry stays in my bed, I wake up screaming. I need somebody who can help me, and I have lost options. Those around me I do not trust, your wife and mother have been so kind I cannot burden them further. My sister will be back soon, but even then I fear that my worries will not be made clear enough to her, and I do not trust my household to give us privacy. _

_You have helped me so many times before, and I know you are a busy man, but if you could take time to write to me, or please come and visit, just once. I know your words will be a balm to my worries, and the children need their uncle. _

_My brother is lost to me, but I once relied on his friendship before his marriage soured it. I need a big brother in my life again. _

_Your sister always,_

_Anne Boleyn _

Arthur crumbled the letter into the fireplace, unwilling to let anybody else read it.

Her plea was for him and she had suffered enough at the hands of unkindness. Somebody around her was making her feel like she had caused her own suffering, when truly she had been powerless to stop it. His mother and wife had been so good to her, but she wanted him, she wanted a man to make her feel like it would be okay, when the others in her life failed to provide her with the comfort she so sorely needed.

When Anne was a little girl, she had helped him prove himself to his father. Now, with his duties reduced to just one weekly meeting, as his physicians banned from anymore, he felt useless again, a boy instead of a man. Perhaps Anne could make him feel whole again, instead of a puppet on a throne.

It was the duty of the King of England to protect ladies from the unkindness of knights who had failed at their duty. His own duties usurped his time, but with his restrictions, there was not much statecraft he was permitted to do anymore. Now would the right time to have a sister again, a girl who had admired since she was three years old. Now was the time to know his heirs, little Edward was a stranger to him and Lisbeth had just had a traumatic experience.

They needed a stable figure in their lives just as much as Anne did, if not more so. To know that their father was capable of such violence would not make them feel safe in their own home, even though they were given the highest level of protection. And Anne… she wanted to feel safe again, in any way she could. Henry clearly had not been making the grand overtures he promised, and the women in her life could be abused in the same way, even if in the case of Katherine and Elizabeth, Arthur would never have laid an unkind hand. It was not the point though. Her own personal security had been jeopardized, and if she was to be Queen of England, she needed her confidence back.

Tomorrow, he would go to Hampton, alone, unannounced to anybody, and fix the York family.

_Author's Note: I'm not entirely thrilled with how this turned out, but I needed a chapter to show Anne's psyche and her own transformation. Last chapter was Henry, this was Anne trying to regain her own confidence and social standing after suffering humiliation and fear. I tried very hard to capture this, and I feel like I fell a bit short, but I needed some political scenes too. Wolsey's ambitions cannot stay dormant, sadly. Anyhow, hope you all enjoyed, and if you read please don't forget to review! Until next time, Marissa :)_


	45. Chapter Forty Five

**Author's Note: **Hi guys! Thanks to everybody who reviewed last chapter, as usual, I am flattered by the amount of support I receive each time I post a new update. This chapter comes with a few warnings. One, there is no Queen Katherine, and I'm very sorry about that. I will include her more in the future but this chapter got too long too fast. Secondly, **this chapter has some sexual content, more than others. If such things offend you, I would suggest skipping the last part of this chapter. **Finally, I hope you all enjoy this one, and if I don't get around to updating before then, have a great Holiday!

Disclaimer: Showtime and history own the Tudor family. I claim no responsibility or copyright over these characters. I don't write history, I only mess around with it ;)

Lastly, I have written a one-shot about Anne Boleyn escaping before her execution titled _**She Who Has Been Queen in England. **_If you get the chance, I hope you all can check it out!

Without further ado, here's chapter 45! Please don't forget to review and enjoy! :)

* * *

**Hampton Court **

_February 2, 1530_

The servants of Hampton Court were not wholly unaccustomed to visits from their King, but unannounced ones were foreign to them. Arthur felt badly for making them scramble to greet him in proper state, and he felt guilty for a moment for making them so uncomfortable. But he knew he needed to see Anne, and he thought coming as a surprise would make her happy, and it would also reveal the true state of her fear and discomfort in her own home.

He had successfully avoided Henry, an accomplishment that would guarantee that he would be able to spend as much time as possible with Anne and the children before his brother would cast judgment upon him, or accuse him of meddling in his marriage. Even though it saddened him that Henry was attending the Privy Council meeting today instead of him, because Arthur had already attended his one weekly allotted meeting by his physician (Katherine would never let him out of her sight if he tried to do more), it was heartening to know that Henry was taking his duty seriously, even if the two brothers were still at odds with each other.

Besides, it was better this way. And it was way his visit had to be a surprise, even though she had written to him requesting it.

In some ways, he was hesitant and nervous about his relationship with Anne Boleyn when she first joined their family. She was not royal and not the bride he would have selected for Henry if he was given a choice, but he never considered her a poor match, nor had he ever thought she would prove unworthy of her great station. Yet, she was a young woman, a girl despite the fact that she would soon be made mother and wife. And she was now his sister by law, and it was his job to protect her, just as much as it was his job to protect Katherine, his mother, his daughter, or his sister, had Mary let him.

The past five years had soothed his worries about his place with Anne. She had welcomed his presence in her life without hesitation or awkwardness, and he knew that she had grown to love him as a brother, as he had grown to respect, admire and care for her as well. It was not every young girl, plucked from obscurity, that would treat her King like a brother but also as her lord and sovereign, but she had never once over or under stepped her bounds.

They had a history too. She was connected to them before she had become the Duchess of York. She was the little girl that Henry had played with in his first blush of freedom and romantic endeavors. In a way, it touched Arthur to know that such a fateful day would prove to have such lasting and enduring consequences. It was truly as if God intended for Henry and Anne to meet that way, despite their recent problems. But Anne had played a part in his youth as well. She made him feel truly like a man, truly like somebody who could become King and do it well, something he had not felt until that moment.

How could he not think fondly of the little girl, if by mere accident, created a deep, profound feeling within him?

She was sad, he could tell. The few times he had seen her after Christmas he could see there was no more light in her eyes. His mother had told him that she had been conspiring with Cardinal Wolsey, but even then, she was worried that it was all just a clever attempt to hide the truth. Nightmares plagued her, sleep never came, and she looked exhausted and tasked all of the time, so his mother assessed. His mother had a talent for dramatics when she wanted something, but he had to believe this one was true, considering the urgency of her letter.

He had not told Katherine he was visiting. While they did most things together, at times he went on his own places. And aside from that, there was the uncomfortable realization that his wife was busier than him. He wanted to feel important again, and did not want to hear Katherine protest, citing the cold air and the barge ride as an unnecessary hardship on his health. He knew she loved him and that was her concern, and she feared his death above all others, having lost all of their children. Arthur shuddered to think of what it would be like when he died for her, but he knew like everything else, she would be the epitome of strength.

But the thought of his demise made him more determined to be there for Anne, and to mend her marriage with Henry. He was more convinced now, after all that he had been through, that a strong marriage meant a strong monarchy. He would feel more comfortable leaving the country in the hands of Henry if he treated his wife better, and if Anne herself was more confident.

And despite all that his father taught him about weakness and affection, he loved them both, and wanted them to be happy for their own sake, and for their children's.

Anne's cousin who answered the door looked confused and startled. "Your majesty, we were not informed of your visit. Will you be dining with us?" Madge asked, singling for the other lady left to attend the Duchess when she was with her daughter to go into her private chamber to alert her of the King's visit. Occasionally, the Queen would drop by unannounced, but that was no hardship, as she did not demand the treatment normally given by her status. She was happy with the plain fare the Duchess preferred when she dined alone, as she expressed that both of them dined in state so often, it was nice to have a break from the rich diet they usually were forced to consume. But she had no idea what the King preferred, or if he would insist on a lavish ceremony.

"If I stay long enough, I will take whatever the Duchess and the Lady Elizabeth are having, thank you Lady Sheldon," Arthur replied. He would not trouble Hampton Court unduly with his visit, as much as he could avoid such measures. He did not come to be honored, he came to help Anne.

"Her grace will receive you now, your majesty," one of Anne's other ladies announced, looking just as shocked as Madge Sheldon. Arthur did not allow himself to feel guilty, even if he knew his visit was distressing for these ladies. The only thing he felt bad about was how long it had taken him to get to Anne, when she had clearly been suffering for so long. Also, their hesitance as to how to treat them, something Katherine never had mentioned, showed that his presence had been far too seldom. Over the next few months, he hoped Anne's household would be used to his presence.

He pulled back the thick curtain separating Anne's private chamber from her presence one and the sight he saw was heartening. Anne held Edward on her lap and Elizabeth on her side as she read them a book, clearly listening attentively. He put down the painful feeling of loss in his heart, trying not to remember when Katherine held Mary the same way, and focused on how radiant Anne looked, her bruises now healed and face animated. He could not help but notice the gold B pendent and a string of pearls hanging from her neck, her former signature before she married Henry.

He regretted breaking them from their idyll but he could not stop Edward's face from lighting up when he saw him, pulling himself from his mother's lap and shouting, "Uncle Arthur!" He enveloped his legs with a hug and Arthur lifted him up, giving the dark haired boy a kiss on the cheek. It amused him how much he looked like a Boleyn instead of a Tudor, and thought of what his father would think about a boy with dark brown hair sitting on the throne someday. He was handsome, had some of Henry's good looks about him, but he looked too much like his mother to truly favor his father.

Anne smiled, but it was stern and tight lipped as she appraised her son, "Edward, darling, that is not the way to properly greet the King." Yet, as she spoke, she turned her head to Arthur and smiled widely, and Arthur could tell it was not feigned. Arthur shook his head as to dismiss the notion, inviting Anne to speak again, "Your majesty, I was not expecting you, but I am so happy you are here," she said, breathless with what Arthur hoped was joy. Yet, there were also tears threatening to spill, and he knew that regardless of how much pleasure she took from her children, she was still very frightened and was trying so hard to stay strong for them.

He set Edward down and held his arms open for her, and she walked into them, still fighting her tears. "My dear sister, it is all going to be alright now," he soothed, rubbing her raven hair and kissing her forehead once she broke out of his embrace. "I am loathing separating you from your children, but I thought we may speak alone?" he invited, knowing that she would not be as candid in front of her children. She had expressed on many occasions that she did not want them to think ill of their father, something Arthur was glad for, but in order for her to heal and move forward, she needed to unburden herself and feel safe again, something she could not do if she had to constantly act as the peacemaker and the mother of England's heirs.

"I want to know what happens to the lady, mama," Lisbeth protested. As much as Arthur was always impressed with how graceful and dignified the little future princess acted on formal occasions, he knew that she was still just a little girl, who wanted to spend time with her mother. Now that Lisbeth had her own establishment and was older, Arthur knew that the time with her mother was cut shorter, even though he was also aware that having mother and child live in the same residence was not a luxury afforded to most. Some would call it weakness, but Arthur knew it was love. "Uncle Arthur should stay for the end of the story too," Lisbeth invited, patting the spot next to her.

Usually her papa would stay with them for story time, but lately he had been busy helping his brother run the kingdom, just like she knew someday William would help Edward, when she was already gone to France to marry her husband. Besides, papa had not been spending as much time with them lately because of being busy but also because he hurt mama. She did not know her uncle as well as she knew her Aunt Katherine, but she knew that her mama loved him like she loved Uncle George, and so she knew that given the chance, she would love him too.

Arthur was charmed by the little girl, who reminded him so much of his own daughter, but who, admittedly, was healthier, stronger, and formidable competition for her brothers at anything she set her mind too. If Henry and Anne had never had a son, he would have been just as comfortable leaving the country to Elizabeth as he once was leaving to Mary. So he sat down next to her, allowing her to drape herself slightly over him, and they waited until the story was over. Arthur smiled when he realized that Edward had fallen asleep, and Anne ran her hands through his hair, so much like her own, and called for Madge to take him to the nursery.

"I am going to spend a few hours with your Uncle Arthur, so you can go to your French lesson and hopefully get through more than just a few minutes of Latin this time," Anne lightly joked, smiling sheepishly at her daughter. She knew that Lisbeth hated her Latin lesson, just as Anne once had. But she never regretted putting the time and effort into learning the difficult language, knowing that it was because of her sharpness that Henry had loved her and that her family had risen so high. Her daughter would be safer if she was educated and bright, and she knew that Lisbeth had so much potential to be great, as foolish as it felt for her to feel so strongly about a five year old girl.

Education would make her as free as a woman could be, would make her more like Anne than like those unfortunate girls, like her sister Mary and she thought with a slight shudder, Jane Seymour.

"Perhaps little Elizabeth will someday be our first female theologian on the Privy Council," Arthur replied, half in jest. "She's much cleverer than most already."

Anne stifled a giggle, thinking of her daughter, grown-up and serious, with heavy clerical robes and a bible in hand. She knew her daughter would make a wonderful wife and hopefully queen someday, which was not as silly of a dream as a theologian. She hoped that William would grow up to be as clever as Lisbeth, because as much as she loved her son Edward, he was slower than Lisbeth was at his age, and would need his brother to advise him loyally and faithfully.

Lisbeth kissed her mother and uncle before rushing off to her lesson, leaving Anne alone with Arthur. "How are you now, truly?" he asked sincerely as he stood up and offered a hand to her.

"May we speak outside? I do not want to trouble you or make you ill by making you go out in the cold, but I learned very early that the walls have ears," Anne replied. She knew that she could trust Nan and Madge, but soon there would be other petty servants, who could have the ears of unkind souls, like her father, uncle, or worse, the Seymours. But if the King would be sick by it, she would never forgive herself for it, knowing how fearful Katherine was for the day her husband left this world. Anne intended to see to it that Katherine would have an honored place at court, but considering Henry's animosity towards her, she could not promise her dear friend much.

"My physician may want to have my head for it, but I have always found a walk in the cold to be most invigorating. I have brought my furs," Arthur responded, knowing that it would be better if they walked. Perhaps his next visit they could have the children walk with them, as he had heard Lisbeth had a vested stake in the gardens, and once the snow melted, he would love to admire them. He did not want to spend the rest of his life cooped up inside, like some kind of invalid. Bad enough he was supposed to be isolated from the affairs of his kingdom.

He extended his arm to her as soon as they left the palace, with Nan following behind them, close enough as to attend them if they needed anything, but far enough away to accord them the privacy they so desperately desired. Anne tucked her arm into his and moved close to him, as she used to do with George before he grew bitter and resentful of her, and blamed her for his marriage. She and Henry used to take winter walks, before things turned sour. It was the first time all season she had worn her fine furs and felt alive again. Bundled up against Arthur, despite how slight his body was compared to Henry's, made her feel warm.

"My marriage, it is, much changed from the beginning. Henry comes to my bed about once a week, just to sleep. Jane Seymour is at Wolf Hall awaiting her marriage to Charles Brandon, and my children grow warmer to him each day, but it is not the same, we are not a family, not like we used to be," Anne rambled, feeling hot tears prick at the back of her eyes. She had tried to act as normal as possible, before things turned sour, but she could not feign it forever. She wanted to curl up each night, even those when Henry lay next to her, and weep. Weep until things felt normal again, if they ever did.

But she was the Duchess of York and had duties and obligations to her kingdom and for her future as Queen of England. Not to mention her duty as a wife and a mother, one that for her was the most solemn, considering the terrible luck Katherine and Arthur had in the birthing bed.

Arthur patted her hand. "You have been so strong; I imagine that's been difficult for you. Lying to Henry will do you no good; you must express to him how you feel or else you will never move forward in your marriage, your resentment will build inside of you until you no longer have the ability to feel anything towards him, and you will be trapped," Arthur advised. He knew the feeling, he had felt the same towards his father, when he was young and kept at court, away from his wife, when they could have produced an heir. Instead of turning to God for strength after the loss of all of his children, he blamed his father, for not allowing him to be with his wife when he was young and healthy. He never could forgive him, and he knew how deep resentment could become.

If it happened in a marriage, and not with a rapidly dying parent, Arthur did not want to think of the consequences.

Anne choked back tears, nodding furiously. She knew he was right, and did not want to think of what would happen if they could not talk. But things had changed, in a different direction then she wanted. She thought she would have until March to emotionally forgive him, to get over the pain and return to bed with him with a full heart once she was ready and not as fearful of him. But Linacre had told both of them that there was no need to continue the ban after examining her once more, decided that her body could bare another child safely, and that she could resume her duty as soon as she wanted.

The language was coached carefully, but really, as any woman knew, she would resume marital relations with her husband once he decided that it was time for them to be man and wife again in truth. And if she denied him…she would know his wrath and the true, actual decline of her marriage. Two months ago she longed to hear those words, but now she felt like shaking just thinking about being naked with Henry again and that vulnerable in bed with him.

"We have been discussing things, about trusting him again, about my hesitance…but now things have changed. I fear…these things are too intimate and far too petty to burden you, as the King," Anne explained. She did not want to embarrass or shame herself, nor make Arthur discuss something that. It was not his problem, it was hers, and only she should bear the cost of that.

"I came here to help you, and not for you to be so shy around me. I know your brother has abandoned you and your sister, she is not here yet and she too has betrayed you, and your father has never been on your side. So I am here, and I am on your side, and I will keep you safe," Arthur promised, squeezing her hand, hoping that she would confide in him at last, no matter what it was that was troubling her.

Anne took a deep breath, praying for the strength to confide in him, despite how shameful it felt. "Linacre has revoked the ban, and ended it early. He said that I am physically fit to return to my wifely duties," Anne explained, taking another pregnant sigh. "Two months ago, this would have been the best news. But now…now I fear him. I fear what will happen when we are alone together, when I am before him and there is nobody that will come and help me if he is not gentle…" she cut herself off, tears overtaking her voice. She felt Arthur's arms wrap around her, and she buried herself into his shoulder.

He moved her over to a nearby bench and sat her down, keeping her burrowed in his furs. Once she was done, he brought her chin up, so she looked at him. "I promise you, as long as I live, if he lays another hand on you in violence or unkindness, I will have you moved to Whitehall permanently, with your children. If he does not come to his senses in time, I will disinherit him and put your son on the throne, if only to protect you. I will not have a woman, as gracious as yourself, suffer under the protection of my family, nor will I have you in danger when I die," Arthur passionately proclaimed, kissing her hand gingerly.

Feeling weak, and scared, but no longer alone, she upturned her enchanting eyes to him, still wet with tears, and asked, "Can you truly promise such a thing?"

"I cannot do much else as King these days, but as long as you live and I live, you will be safe. Resume your wifely duties, and know that if something happens that you do not consent to, I will keep you safe," Arthur promised once again, squeezing her hand. "You must trust me."

Anne nodded, knowing that for the sake of her marriage and for her own self-worth and confidence, the only person she could fully trust was Arthur. If her protector was the King of England; the thought made her truly smile, for the first time all winter.

* * *

Mary Stafford held her small daughter tightly to her breast, hoping the cold would not adversely harm her. She was only a few months old, and she knew that the cold would not be good for her little daughter, her dear little Annie, but she was not willing to leave her behind with William, as he had advised. It was not that she did not trust him, but that she was not sure how long Anne would need her for and the idea of being separated from her children, like she had to be when she serviced the Queen and then Anne and lived at court, was so painful.

Granted, Catherine and little Henry were still living with her new husband, and since Anne had not cut off their pension, as they were Carey children and therefore products of a marriage her family approved of, they were under the watchful eyes of a governess still, freeing up her time to spend with her new daughter. She felt okay, not entirely happy, but comfortable enough leaving her older children with her new husband and governess, but she did not want to leave her little baby.

Anne had promised that her new niece would share the nursery with her children while Mary was at court, leading her to believe that she would be reappointed as a lady in waiting sooner than not. As happy as she was, and as much as she did not regret her decision to marry Will, she needed money again. She would never admit to others, especially not her family that she and Will were hurting, but he had lost his position as a solider due to their supposed disgrace and could not find employment elsewhere. She needed to be back in her family's good graces or else she shuddered to think of what would happen. The amount of money George sent her a month was enough to keep their home, but it was impossible for her to continue to live on the mercy of her brother forever, and she did not want to begin to steal from her children's pensions.

She would never admit she made a mistake, however, because it did not feel like a mistake. But if Anne was going to drag her from her husband and home, then she wanted to gain something from it, even though she knew that she would gladly run to her without the promise of money, because truth be told, she loved and missed Anne more than words could describe, and the reports from Hampton were disturbing, to say the least. She had heard that Henry had beaten her sister within an inch of her life, and that their relations were strained now, and that all of court knew how far their Boleyn star had fallen.

Mary knew that it was not true, because George wrote the truth. Anne had been slapped, hard, and had to go out in public the next morning. But she and Henry were reunited, spending time with their children, and perhaps most important, Jane Seymour was to marry Charles Brandon, and nobody thought that Henry would ever go to bed with his dearest friend's wife.

Mary knew Anne well enough that she would be shaken, but she would be a merry pretender, dancing on attendance to her husband and leading the court reveals for her daughter's grand celebration for her birthday. Mary was coming back to Hampton in the midst of the preparations, something she was grateful for. Less people were likely to notice she had returned if Lisbeth's birthday feast was such a grand production.

She was admitted into Anne's rooms by a cheerful Madge Sheldon, clearly happy to see Mary back. "We missed you, Lady Mary," Madge said, lifting the blanket slightly to catch a glimpse at Annie, cooing as her daughter made a face at her cousin. "She's perfect. Her grace was so excited you were coming back today, and it's a good thing too. The King was by yesterday, a great help, but it is nothing compared how much she missed you."

Mary nodded, trying to swallow some of her guilt. She did not think about Anne very much while she spent months of marital bliss with her husband, and she did not think of the consequences that it would reap because for once, oh just for once, she was truly in love. But back at Hampton, looking around at a glittering court, so similar to the ones that she too grew up in, she did not miss it as such, but she knew she missed her sister. Anne was always far more suited for this life than Mary was. She just wished that her family could have accepted that.

She did not waste any more time before pulling back the curtain separating her sister from her attendants, wanting to cry when she saw her face. Anne looked beautiful, as always, but also so tired, like she had fought too many battles she could never win. Mary felt so sorry for her, she remembered her as she used to be, and the vibrant young woman who captivated the Duke of York and lead all the men of court wrapped around her little finger. Now she just looked drawn out, worn down, a woman who wanted to spend time with her children and nobody else.

"Your grace, I have come as you've bid," Mary said, dropping down into a curtsey, hating how formal she sounded. But she still did not know where she stood with Anne, although she was sure that her welcome back into her life, at least partly, was due to the fact that she was ready to forgive her.

Anne looked up from her book, which Mary could not recognize, as there was no title, making her assume it was a banned book, and smiled widely at Mary, and she could tell that it was not feigned. "Oh sister!" she exclaimed, pulling Mary into a hug, mindful of the small baby in her arms. "And this is my…?" she asked, not sure of the child's sex. She wished she knew, but she did not receive letters from Mary, as she was sure her father would stop any attempted correspondence through his spy network, despite Anne's power, she still felt so trapped.

"Niece, Anne Stafford, but we call her Annie for short," Mary explained, opening up the blanket a bit more to reveal her sleeping infant daughter.

Anne smiled through teary eyes. "You still named your daughter after me, after what I did," she choked. She felt so badly for the way that she and her sister parted again, not wanting to think of what would have happened if Mary had died birthing her child. But her sister looked well, clearly the country air in Rochford agreed with her more than court ever did, and she was glad to see her looking so happy. She also loved her husband, perhaps more than she ever loved Henry, and she did not need all of the things Anne strived for. Perhaps not being her father's favorite, particularly intelligent, or ambitious was a good thing for Mary, though Anne never would have wished for them to trade places.

Despite all evidence to the contrary with they were girls, with Mary being in the King of France's bed and Anne studiously avoiding men, Mary would not be the Boleyn girl with a grand title or a rich husband, but that she would just be peaceful and happy. And Anne was the one, who at twenty-two, was to be the Queen of England and oversee a grand court, even though beforehand, she was the awkward gawky girl who preferred Latin to courtiers.

At least the two of them had something in their fates- mother to three healthy children. Anne felt so guilty for compromising the future of the girl who laid in her mother's arms, her niece and namesake, while her three children slept in a grand palace and were doted upon by royal servants, and she was allowed to stay so close to them, while Mary's Carey children were stuck at Hever getting their education, cutting off their mother's contact with them.

"Of course, she is so much like you when you were a little girl, getting into mischief and making her father and mine own lives so very difficult," Mary gushed, looking down at her daughter with pride. She was not a child from the marriage her father forced her into after France and a few months in the Queen's household, but with the man who made her feel so very happy and wanted. She never resented little Catherine and Henry for their father, but Annie was special to her because she could name her after her sister, the Duchess of York, with pride, and give her the last name Stafford with love and devotion.

"I've made arrangements for her to stay in the nursery. Your daughter Catherine should come up here as well, to be a schoolroom companion to Elizabeth, and your son Henry can also stay in the nursery with Edward, and take his lessons with him," Anne offered, smiling at her sister. Her father could do nothing to stop her, she was put in charge of her children's household, and she would pick their companions. She knew that Henry would not complain or protest at their low-birth, not while he planned to marry his brother-in-law, once husband to a Princess of England, to a common slut and daughter of a knight, making children with royal blood call her "mother." Her sister's children were just as worthy. She hoped George would eventually have children too, so that all of their children could grow up and love each other, just as they did, before Anne reached high and soured it all for them.

"Anne, you don't have to. Father won't approve," Mary protested, but she would not fight her much. It was a great honor, and would make her life infinitely easier.

Anne shook her head, giving her sister a sly and knowing smile. "Father does not rule over me any longer," Anne stated, patting her sister's hand and calling one of her ladies to come take her niece down to the nursery. "I have arranged for you to be placed back in my household, and raised your income. You will be my chief lady in waiting once more, and your husband will be knighted and put in my husband's household, as a groom. I hope that will correct for the past wrongs, and for letting our dear father rule over me when in truth, I will always be set above him."

"I am truly grateful, and never think I am not," Mary responded, kissing her sister and pulling her into a hug, so happy she stopped for a small moment acting like a grand Duchess and Princess and became her little Anne again. "Now, you must tell me of your troubles. George writes and tells me that Henry has been cruel." Mary did not truly want to bring it up, but Anne was still her little sister, and she still felt the need to protect her, and she was still furious at the thought of Henry, who chased her sister down before they married to beg for her hand, being so callous towards Anne.

Anne swallowed hard, looking at her sister's kind face and willing herself not to weep. It still hurt her to think about Henry's words and actions on that terrible evening, but the King's kindness had helped her. She did not want to burden her sister any more, but she needed to tell her about Linacre's prohibition, because she knew she could talk more openly about such intimate matters. "It was the dreaded ban that started the whole thing, and after he slapped me, I thought it would be my refuge. Now it has ended early. I still cannot trust him. I love him so much but every time he raises his voice around me I have a nightmare that evening. How can I trust him, when I am the most vulnerable?"

"Oh Anne," Mary cooed, rubbing her arm. "You must though, I hate to say such things, but without being a wife to him in full, he could return to Jane, or take another mistress. If you want him to be yours and only yours, you must be his wife," Mary advised. She could not imagine being in her sister's position, but she knew that she ran the risk of simply pulling into herself and her children, and losing the love of her husband forever. Even though she knew she was close to the King, Queen and Dowager Queen, she would have to rule after them, and nobody could save her once her husband became King.

Anne nodded through her tears. The King would have never said such a thing to her, because he could not fathom leaving Katherine emotionally, but she knew that Henry would have a live-in concubine and she would have all of the power and Anne would be left with nothing but her children, who only lived close to her because she and her husband presided over Hampton Court, for the time being. They would get their own estates, likely, once Henry became King. Her sister was right. As scared as she was, she needed to fight through it. She finally spoke, "I love him, and that's why I married him. But it's so much harder than I thought it would be."

Mary wanted to say something harsh, that Anne did not know hardship, not like the Queen who lost all of her children, or the Dowager Queen who was shut out of her husband's affairs almost entirely and lost children too, or like their own mother, who was denied seeing her daughter's as she laid dying, or like Mary or George, forced into marriages they did not want. She had finally hit a hardship in her fairytale marriage, and she was stumbling. But she knew Anne had reason to be scared. None of the women who sat on the English throne in recent memory had been slapped or beaten by their husband, and once Arthur was gone, who could save her? It was not the present situation that scared her, but the future one, and Mary could appreciate that.

"He loves you, my darling sister, and so does all of this court. You just have to make them remember why," Mary expressed, walking towards Anne's immense wardrobe. "You must wear your finest gown when you dine in state tonight. You must wear this silk nightgown when he comes to your bed. And when you lay together, you must be the one to lay on him." She was sure her sister never took such command, even though she was sure as the fiercest member of both the Boleyn and Howard family, she was quite capable of such small tricks in the bedroom.

"You never did teach me what you learned in France," Anne remarked, trying not to sound unkind or rude, but generally curious. Mary had made King Francis happy, as her father bid her to do. And she had slept with more me than just that as well. Her experienced sister surely could help her feel confident in the privacy of her marital relations.

Mary laughed, glad to be back with her sister again, and glad to be back at court. She loved her farm with Will, but she did not know if she could live out the rest of her days there, contently. She did not want to ever be the center of a court again, not after France, but she did love the drama and the interactions. Anne was serious though, and she knew that no matter what she told her, it would not help her. She had to be free and open with Henry, and not relay on the whore's tricks she learned trying to hold a King's attention. "They are not tricks dignified enough for the future Queen of England. You must be the woman he married, and not like the women he takes to bed. Not that Jane Seymour would ever know a whore's trick," Mary laughed, happy to see Anne laugh with her.

Anne's face turned dark though, and she began to look paranoid again, like she did in the late days of her last pregnancy. "You know who she is marrying in a week's time, don't you?" At Mary's nod, she continued, "She waited a while, to make sure she didn't have a bastard in her belly. Now she is going to marry Henry's best friend. Not quite the country gentleman I had in mind, an unambitious idiot who would keep the simpleton slut bored in the country. No, this is a man who is my friend, whose children live with mine. I will have to put up with her moon-faced brats and I will have to see her face at court over and over again, and watch Henry still flirt with her. Brandon won't dare reprimand him or her."

"Anne, her children will be minor members of the gentry, not like Edward and Francis Brandon, who are children of a Princess. And she will be married to a courtier, who is not even a knight. She is marrying beneath her father; my husband will outrank him!" Mary explained, trying not to scoff at the irony of the whole situation. Charles Brandon likely would have gotten a title sooner than later if it weren't for Henry's plan to marry him to his cast-off mistress, at least that's what George wrote to her. Will Stafford was a common solider and he was to gain more favor. To Mary, Anne had nothing to worry about; as it was clear the King and the Duke were not willing to upset her in this matter.

However, Anne's mind was in a different place. "Charles is his best friend. He may have dismissed her from my household but he still wants her at court. We have to attend their wedding too. He says he wants to move forward but how can I trust him when he does such things, without thinking? At least he could have married her to a Howard man!"

"Anne, you do not need to trouble yourself about such things. She is nothing to you, and she is marrying in all regards a nobody," seeing that Anne was going to interrupt her, she pushed forward, "You have won, darling. There is no woman alive who can compete with you. You have the heirs to England bearing your blood, you have the King of England making day trips to visit you to make sure you are comfortable and happy; you have two Queens of England training you to be the best Queen England has ever known, and now you have your sister back. You must act like the most beautiful, confident women in the world because that is what made Henry love you."

"I'm so happy you are here, sister. For I almost forgot what it meant to be a Boleyn, until you just reminded me. We are just confident upstarts," Anne proclaimed with a hint of sarcasm, clinking her wine glass against her sister's. "But I am the second lady in England, I had best stop sulking."

"That is not what I meant," Mary said, feeling badly. She did not want to make her sister think she had failed. In all regards, Mary admired her little sister more than anybody else.

"I know, but it is what I must do. Henry will come to my bed tonight, and I will make him delirious with pleasure. In the morning, I will show him this book," Anne said, picking up the book she had been reading earlier, "that Francis' sister sent me. And then I will meet with Wolsey's man and scheme to make him Pope, and arrange the marriages for my children, and get your husband knighted when the King comes to visit next. I am Anne Boleyn, the Duchess of York, and if I am of the same pedigree as a Seymour wench, I had better show the world that I am well-suited to be the Queen of England."

Mary stared wearily at her sister, whose eyes looked transported into another world. Her vehemence frightened her, but then made her smile. The Duke of York had no idea what her sister was truly capable of, but she trusted he would shortly find out.

* * *

Henry did not want to push his wife into relations she did not want to yet have.

He had already done enough to upset the balance of their marriage, and while he was visiting Hal that afternoon, as he was the only child of his that did not remind him of Anne and would renew feelings of guilt, the boy had asked how his marriage was. When Henry looked at him in surprise, he apologized for overstepping the bounds, but that was not why Henry was upset. It was that he did not know the true state of his marriage.

Anne still dined with him, both in public and private, and she allowed him to sleep beside her at least one night a week. She did not stop him from taking sport with other members of the court, sometimes joining him, sometimes opting to stay indoors with their children. When he asked if they could attend Charles' wedding, she shrugged and said she would be happy to, despite the fact that he knew of her feelings towards the bride. Yet, she was colder towards him. She did not stare at him with the girlish admiration he had come to expect and cherish, but she did not hate him either. She was weary of him. When he touched her or tried to hold her at night, she was usually stiff in his arms. Every time his voice rose louder or harsher, she would flinch.

The worst thing was when she would wake up screaming at night, and Henry would have to hold her until she woke up, and acted as if nothing had happened, even though whatever demon troubled her, it had not started until they had fought.

Now Linacre told him that the ban was ended. A year ago, he would have taken Anne into his arms and made love to her until the sun rose, and when she would yawn the next morning over breakfast, they would share a secret smile. Now, he felt that if he took his right as her husband, that she would resent him, and view his advances as unwelcome, or even worse, scary. He had never wanted to make his wife scared of him, the idea was the most painful for him, and it reminded him too much of his father.

He wondered if when her father came to his mother at night, if she shivered in fear and dreaded the encounter throughout the whole day, or if they truly found love and passion there. He highly doubted it. He never wanted his marriage to be one of terror and fear. They married out of love and their time spent alone together, intimately, was sacred and meant to be passionate and solemn. He did not feel like he should ask to take his right, as it was his right, but at the same time, he could never imagine forcing himself on her, listening to her scream and fight all for his pleasure.

He missed her embraces and their nights together, but for what they were before she was pregnant with William. He would not accept fear or half-measures. He wanted to be able to trust himself to stay faithful and loyal as well, but he could not be sure of himself. There were pretty girls coming each day anew to Hampton, and even without Jane Seymour there to tempt him, the new ladies at court knew that Henry was not able to be seduced away from his wife, and they were trying to so hard to reap the same benefits Jane had. His mother was right, having Jane so openly made him look weak. He did not want to admit that Jane was a mistake, but the more days that she had been gone, the more clearly it became that this would have lasting consequences.

The worst thing had been having to tell Brandon that Jane was to be his wife, to force his friend to take his discarded mistress. Brandon did not seem to mind, it was not as if he was forcing cuckold's horns on him, but he did not know if his friend even wanted to marry again after Mary had died. Yet, he expressed joy at Francis finally having a mother, and for a pretty bride. Henry tried not to see the pain in his eyes, but he knew his friend would do his bidding in this matter. He just never wanted to take advantage of friendship in such a sordid way.

He had made many mistakes, and he would try and right them, starting with Anne.

He knew she would be expecting him, so he made his way to her rooms, knocking and smiling when he saw Anne's sister on the other side. "Lady Stafford, I am so happy to see you back at court," Henry expressed, leaning to give his sister-in-law a kiss on the cheek. "You look well; the country suits you I hope?" He had not argued with Anne's banishment of Mary, knowing that it was for the best that she be cut off for a while, for punishment of marrying too low. Yet, he was happy to see her back, as he knew his wife loved her sister almost more than anybody else, and he knew that she would need the comfort.

"Thank you, your grace. I am very happy there, but I am glad to be back with my sister, where I belong," Mary expressed, leading Henry through the outer chamber into Anne's rooms. Mary closed the curtain quickly, knowing that Anne had business to attend to with her husband, and she said a quick prayer for her, hoping that she would reunite successfully with her husband.

He gasped when he saw her, a vision in her blue silken robe and sheer nightgown. If this was before their troubles, he would have ravished her. As it was, he stood with his mouth agape in the entrance way, not even noticing her small giggle.

"Henry," she whispered, throwing off her robe and kissing him. He grabbed a fistful of her black hair, pulling her closer to him, as gently as he could. He could feel his hardness already growing against her thigh, and he prayed it did not frighten her.

"It's been so long, my only love," he huskily whispered, grabbing her behind and pulling her up to his body, shivering at the length of her. His eyes clouded with desire, but he still had enough sense to be sure, once they were done. "Are you ready for this now? We can wait I know we have much to figure out, to discuss, the children…" he was silenced with another kiss.

"I am your wife. I have not been for over a year. We have a lot to talk about, yes, but right now all I want is you," she explained, turning him around and leading him to her grand bed. "I've been thinking about you all day, and how badly I want this," she said, stripping his doublet off and pulling his face up to hers for another kiss.

He loved having her on him, feeling her near and around him, like he had not felt in so long. They continued to kiss and undress for a few more minutes, until his passion built up and he flipped her on her back, as they customarily did before they made love, and began to kiss her breasts delicately. He was going to continue and reunite in full, but then she did something he was dreading.

Anne began to sob audibly, and even in his haze of desire, he could tell the noise she was making in-between kisses was not pleasure, but fear and pain. He pulled off of her quickly, and went into her closet, where his nightshirt was always kept, and threw it over his nakedness.

When he looked back over at her, she had covered her body with the large blanket, and had a look of shame and embarrassment, but her eyes were still terrified. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I thought I could do this but I can't, I'm still so afraid of you." When he did not respond, she kept speaking, as if she was unloading her thoughts from the past few months in a few moments. "I love you so so much and I know I have no right to stop you, you may take your right and I will be your wife as is my duty and my obligation and I know that if I do not you will not love me anymore, but I am so sorry I cannot stop I'm so frightened." She hugged herself closer, not expecting comfort from him.

He walked over to the bed and pulled her gently into his arms, grateful that she did not move away. "I should not have even tried. We were not ready for this. We are broken, but mending. We cannot heal this way," Henry spoke into her hair, but he knew she heard him. He hoped she would take comfort and strengthen. "You looked so beautiful tonight; I do not know how I could even look at another lady after that sight. That will keep me satisfied until you are ready."

She shook her head, as if she could not believe him. "I love you, but I know you. I am not the same woman you waited over a year to marry. I am a mother, I am dull, and I am fat. I'm not dazzling any longer."

Henry laughed, scoffing at the notion. "I will never grow tired of you. I will always have a passion for you. I never thought, in all my years, I would find my equal. I have been foolish, but I want to be better. You make me want to be better." He cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. He kissed her gently, and to his delight, she deepened the kiss. "Your lazy kiss is better than any woman's best effort."

"Once you become my Henry and I become your Anne again, I think we can lay together once more without guilt or fear," Anne theorized, nuzzling back into his arms, not moving to cover herself back up with her clothes. If she would not make love to her husband tonight, she would at least trust him enough to lay next to him naked. "As long as you continue to love me, and I you, I believe we will heal."

He kissed the top of her head and reclined into the pillow, sighing contently as she lay across him, her bare breasts across his chest, her long hair cascaded over him. He rubbed her back and whispered softly into her ear, "For now my love, I am the happiest man in all of Christendom to just sleep like this, and not with you stiff in my arms like you have been."

"I am sorry," she said sleepily, already exhausted from her past two days of stress from the end of the ban and its implications. Tonight had reminded her that her husband was not evil, but kind, her true hero and the best man in her life, regardless of the past. He had made a mistake, and she knew that someday, she would overlook that over his other qualities. Perhaps it would truly only happen once. Perhaps she could, just for once, hope that she was truly safe and the only woman for him.

"No, my love, it is I who is wretched. Someday, I hope to gain your true and utter forgiveness in your body, soul and mind. For now, I shall love you like this, and pray that we can be as we are now and not go backwards," Henry proclaimed, and Anne admired the poetry in his voice, that she felt she had no heard for so long. She knew she would not stop loving him in a thousand years, but she hoped that it would someday stop being as painful as it was currently. The thought gave her hope, and she fell asleep on his chest.

Henry stayed awake for a few more minutes, admiring his wife's sleeping form, before reclining completely and holding her closer. In the morning, he smiled when he realized she had not screamed that night.

_Author's note: This chapter is filler. But it was sorely needed for character development, and it was partly written during finals week, so there's that. Next chapter will be Jane Seymour's wedding, Katherine will make an appearance again since this is the third chapter she has not been in, and Anne will continue to solidify her friendships. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this one, despite its lack of plot movement and its foundational quality, and I hope you all review! Until next time, Marissa. _


	46. Author's Note

I needed to make this filler so you guys could review my new chapter- since my old author's note got deleted.

Click next for chapter 46!


	47. Chapter Forty Six

**Author's Note: **Welcome back! Thanks to everybody who reviewed last chapter- always so nice to get your support, and special thanks to all those guest reviewers who I couldn't reply to! This is an extra-long one, my Christmas/Holiday present to all of you, so I hope you enjoy it. Just a side note: This chapter is **not** going to include Jane and Brandon's wedding. I will be waiting a few more chapters to do that, due to a plot point I want to bring up. Hope you all enjoy!

**Disclaimer: These characters belong to Showtime and history. I claim no copyright. Just a fair warning, I mess with more history than just England's in this chapter. Hopefully you can all excuse my canon. **

Special thank you to ReganX, without her, this story would not have been possible.

Without further ado, please read, review and enjoy! :)

* * *

**Hampton Court**

_February 27, 1530_

Wolsey was still weary of his relationship with the Duchess of York.

She was friendly towards him always, inviting him to dine with her and the Duke so often, more so than he was used to, even at his early days at Hampton when Henry was still very happy about the recent gift to him, and she even would dine with him and walk with him in the gardens without Henry's company. If Henry was hesitant or suspicious of his wife's sudden affection towards him, he made no hint towards it, and Anne was more affable than ever, as each day passed, he could swear the Duchess was more thrilled about their friendship, even as her father sent her worried and angry looks each time she sought out his conversation in plain sight.

He could not tell if she was sincere or not, which worried him, because he had spent most of his public life and most of his career determining the sincerity of those around him, to gauge their feelings towards him and how it could suit him. He knew the old King's Mother, Margaret Beaufort, was well-disposed towards him, as well as the old King Henry, and Queen Elizabeth did not seem to have an opinion towards him, which was well enough to him, because she was overshadowed by the men in her life. Queen Katherine had no affection towards him; something he had not realized would have a large impact until he was denied the Chancellorship- and he did not want to make that mistake again when it came time for Queen Anne to ascend.

If her friendship was sincere, that would be good for him, without a doubt, and would strengthen his ties with the York family even more. He never had any reason to think she disliked him- he had given her Hampton as well, baptized all three of her children, and advised Henry towards a French alliance, something she wanted as well. Yet, Thomas Boleyn hated him openly, as well as the Duke of Norfolk, despite what he had done for their daughter and niece, and he knew he would have cause to regret it if Anne began to feel the same way as her male relatives. He was used to a lot of men disliking him, and he was confident he could maneuver around them, as he was aware that they grumbled that he was an upstart with too much influence, but when a woman disliked him, when they could use the allure of their flesh to destroy him, he knew that he would lose.

He was determined to keep Anne's friendship, despite what it could cost him, because he knew the reward would outweigh such concerns. She saw the sense in having him installed as Pope, and now that she was getting closer to the King and her influence over her husband was at an all-time high now that Jane Seymour had been sent from court and betrothed to Charles Brandon, ensuring that Henry would not openly court her anymore even if their physical relationship continued, she was going to be more willing to pressure those two men to support him monetarily. If she was also willing to arrange beneficial marriage alliances for her children, that would secure him the French vote, as well as part of the Imperial one if she was serious about a possible marriage between Lord Edward and one of the Emperor's daughters.

Wolsey had come to the conclusion that he needed Anne's support if he ever wanted to fulfill his ultimate ambition- and now that he thought he had it, no matter the sincerity of it, he was not willing to lose it.

He had presented her daughter, the Lady Elizabeth, at her birthday a copy of one of the many beautiful illuminated Latin bibles at his disposal as both a Cardinal and the Archbishop of York, and despite her tender age of five years old and the parade of gowns and jewels she had already received, he overheard her telling her mother that it was one of her favorite gifts, despite her troubles with Latin. Surely Anne would have preferred she would have gotten an English bible, but not even Wolsey was willing to take it so far, but the bible in her daughter's possession was worth some considerable amount, and Anne was not stupid enough to forget that.

He also regularly visited Lord Edward, often giving him trinkets that he knew the boy did not need but would have enjoyed, and since he was one of the boy's godfathers (the other being the King) he knew it was best to cultivate his friendship. Baby William was too young to be able to receive him, but he knew that once he was older, he would surely make his presence known. The Duchess loved her children more than life itself, and Wolsey knew the way to keep her friendship was to show that he was devoted to their best interests, and would continue to be once he was named Pope.

Yet, he needed her to like him too, and know that no matter what her reformist beliefs could mean, and how much he personally found them distasteful, that he would not hinder them. He could not be seen to harbor a heretic and hope to be elected Pope, but he knew Anne was far from it. She was concerned about the corruption of the Church, something he too could commiserate with, and if she could see him as an ally, it would prevent Henry and Anne from straying from the Church, and would keep him in her good graces. He hoped that the man walking a few paces behind him could achieve that for him.

Thomas Cromwell had been in his service for a few years, as loyal a page as he could have hoped, yet he knew that the man was not entirely the Church's most devoted servant, even if he was a Cardinal's. Wolsey had never heard Cromwell speak openly, but on more than one occasion, he had intercepted his letters on accident, his personal ones, speaking to his wife about his religious beliefs. Cromwell was a bit more fevered than the Duchess, but Wolsey was still not unduly concerned about uniting them. Anne would be grateful, and would view his support of her deeper than face value, and would also respect that he was treating her as a ruler in her own right, even if her power technically came from her husband.

Queen Katherine had changed the nature of the game for women in politics and in the royal family, and he knew Anne would appreciate it if Wolsey viewed her as continuing that legacy.

Cromwell, for his part, did not seem dismayed to be (hopefully) appointed as the Duchess of York's personal secretary. The man was hard to read to begin with, but he could recognize his ambition, so similar to his own- so he was likely to read through the outward appointment as secretary to the second lady in the kingdom, not yet Queen and recently humiliated publically by her husband, as not a bad thing, but one full of opportunity and promise. Anne had not relied on the use of a secretary beforehand, he knew that she wrote her letters by hand, as she was not involved in many matters of official state business, instead mostly with the nursery just a few doors down from her at Hampton, so she did not need one. Yet, Wolsey hoped that she would soon be more involved with the political landscape of Europe, with the help of her children. She would need somebody she could trust to help her with such things, and Wolsey trusted Cromwell enough to do it, as well as he knew it would be useful to have Cromwell in her household, instead of having to rely solely on the reports of the two maids he had paid in her household.

Anne would not trust him right away, of course, and would be careful about what to say around him, as she was with the ladies of her household that were not her sister, Madge Sheldon, or Nan Seville, but he hoped once Cromwell was open with her about his religion, and once he proved himself loyal to her, she would be more open with him, and Wolsey would have another tool to use in benefit of his pursuit for Pope. Cromwell seemed to be aware of this plan, and Wolsey trusted the man to make good use of his talents, and perhaps even endear himself to the Boleyn family at large, including the cold Earl of Ormonde, who would never care for Wolsey, but perhaps could come to care for Thomas Cromwell, his daughter's secretary, which would help him be aware of Boleyn's movements more than he was currently.

He was admitted into Anne's chambers by her sister, who greeted him with a smile. Wolsey had noticed that Anne had been happier over the past month, now that her sister Mary had come back to join them, and her husband was knighted. Wolsey thought Mary Stafford had acted foolishly, considering how far she could have risen with her sister at the pinnacle of royal favor, but he favored her with an amiable smile, knowing that whomever Anne favored, he would have to as well. "Lady Stafford, I was hoping to catch her grace unoccupied," Wolsey explained. Cromwell shifted uncomfortably behind him, now that they had reached the Duchess' apartments, Wolsey could sense his nervousness but it did not worry him.

"The Lady Elizabeth and Lord Henry are with her, but I am certain she could spare a few moments for your eminence, as well as your companion," Mary remarked, trying not to infuse surprise into her comments. Anne had been with her stepson, who she favored as her own, and her beloved daughter, all morning, since they were free from lessons that day while Edward was stuck in the nursery with his elementary lessons, and was not expecting visitors. Yet she knew her sister had been close with the Cardinal for months, despite the way that her father looked so terribly put out each time her sister singled out Wolsey at court.

Mary beckoned them to follow her, pulling the curtain separating her sister from her attendants and smiling at the sight of her on her knees with Elizabeth on her back while Hal pretended to lead Anne like a pony with her long necklace. It was not dignified behavior for a Duchess and the future Queen of England, but nobody would dare rebuke Anne these days, she was nearly untouchable with the support of the full royal family behind her, wanting her to succeed.

Still, she flushed scarlet red when she noticed Wolsey was standing at her doorway, with a man she did not recognize. "Darling, up now," she whispered, making sure Lisbeth had slid off safely before accepting Wolsey's outstretched arm to pull herself from the ground. "Your eminence, an unexpected pleasure," Anne greeted with a sincere smile on her face, holding her hand out for him to kiss. She had not expected to enjoy the Cardinal's company as she conspired to make him Pope nor had expected to become fond of him, even though he knew the overtures he made towards her and her children were motivated out of ambition than actual kindness, but she had been the head of her own court for long enough that there were few men who cultivated her friendship out of sole interest in her company.

"I trust I am not interrupting anything too important?" Wolsey asked, smiling as to inform the children that he was jesting. Anne's children, and Henry's bastard, were well-behaved and polite, almost to a fault. His own children brought him so much joy, and so he could never find it in his heart to be annoyed by any child, but even so, the Duke's children were not hard to like, and he often enjoyed the few times he had dined with the Duke, Duchess, Lady Elizabeth and Lord Henry, or as he liked to be called, Hal. His children and their mother would never be asked to join, of course, that would cause a scandal despite the fact that Joan was common knowledge. Still, he hoped that his children could be advanced in court, at some point.

"I must thank your eminence for my bible, it is far more interesting and pretty to look at than the normal, boring translation books," little Elizabeth interjected, beaming up at Wolsey and jumping into the conversation before her mother could answer. Cardinal Wolsey had been around her mama much more lately, and he had presented her with such a glorious gift at her birthday. At first she was not so excited to receive something in Latin, but upon further inspection, it was the prettiest book she ever laid eyes on, and her papa was so impressed and so was her mama, so she knew it was special, and she had gotten it over her stupid brothers. It was a sign that the learned Cardinal, who was her papa's tutor when he was her age, thought she was worthy enough for that gift, even though she knew that she was less important because she was a girl. She ranked above her brother Hal, because he was not her mama's son, but she was below her two brothers, even though she knew she was smarter.

The Cardinal knew that, and wanted to honor her that way, and for that, she knew he was friend and not foe.

"I am so happy, my lady, and it so nice to see you Lord Hal. I swear you have grown so many inches since the Lady Elizabeth's birthday!" Wolsey exclaimed, ruffling his dark hair, admiring how much the boy favored Henry. Baby William was still too young to apprise which parent he looked like, but out of all of Henry's children, Hal favored him the most. Little Lisbeth favored her grandmother and namesake and Edward looked more Boleyn than Tudor, but the boy who favored his father would be lucky to receive a peerage once his father became King, while his brothers would be honored as Princes.

Still, Henry was determined to honor the little boy as his son and the Duchess loved him like a natural mother, and as such, he still cultivated the friendship of the boy, who at nine was slowly approaching his stepmother in height and would prove to be as handsome as his father. Wolsey imagined he would marry well, and continue to enjoy the patronage of Anne once she became Queen.

Both children smiled at his praise, but Anne did not want them in the room for what she hoped would be a brief conversation with Wolsey. It was so rare she had the whole day with them, and she was already expecting Arthur's visit later in the day, where he insisted that her children join him this time for the whole visit, now that things with her marriage were getting better. Still, she wanted as much time with them as possible, and did not want to scheme with Wolsey this afternoon.

She put her arms around both of them, still flushed from their playing, and noticed that Hal was sweaty and that both of their fine clothing had been crumpled, as she should have expected. She did not want them to look poor for the King, and it was a good excuse to send them away, "Hal, Lisbeth, why don't you go back up to your rooms and change your clothes, so when his majesty comes you look your best," Anne smiled as she dismissed them, making sure Mary had lead them out of the room before turning her attention to her two male visitors. "What can I help you with this afternoon, your eminence?"

"I was hoping to present you to my page, Master Thomas Cromwell, and offer his services to you as your grace's private secretary," Wolsey smoothly explained, beckoning Cromwell to come forward and smiling at the sight of his well-practiced bow. He knew the man was a former solider, a mercenary by all accounts, but he had made himself into a convincing courtier. It was a talent that Wolsey admired, and recognized, and he was certain Anne would as well.

Anne had not thought to engage a secretary, and was curious as to why Wolsey was brining Cromwell to her now. Yet, she knew that things in Europe were changing drastically. Pope Clement was an old man now, and did not enjoy the ruddiest health. His kinsman, Catherine Medici was promised to King Francis second son, Henri, the Duke of Orléans, but the Pope had failed to provide the dowry that was promised, and it was possible that the marriage would not go through. Lisbeth was only six years younger than him, and it was possible that a failure to provide the dowry could push her into negotiations for a marriage, something she would prefer over his third son, despite the fact that young Charles was closer in age to her daughter.

She would never dare voice it out loud, for fear it would be ill-wishing a King by all regards she was quite fond of, but King Francis' eldest son could die before producing an heir, or even before he became King. King Arthur had nearly died in his youth, and Henry and Anne's own inheritance was assured due to the childlessness of the royal couple. Her greatest wish above all was to see her daughter secured in a French marriage- but if she were to someday become Queen of France, which would please her more than words could describe, and that possibility would be more likely if the Medici family failed to produce the dowry they promised, hopefully forcing Francis to renege on the betrothal and consider her daughter.

Naturally, if this were to occur, she would not be the one in the frontlines of the negotiations- it would be Arthur and Henry, with Wolsey likely acting as the diplomat traveling to France to see to it that the marriage arrangement was done in good faith. Her daughter was five, and she was anxious to see her locked into an agreement. With Elizabeth taken care of, with Arthur's backing, signaling that he saw Henry and Anne as his successors, Edward's marriage could be seen to safely, with hopefully arranging a marriage to the Emperor's daughter. Yet, she was hoping Katherine would champion the match, even though she wanted Elizabeth to marry the Emperor's Prince Philip, hopefully she would accept such arrangement, as it would bring another Spanish princess over to be Queen of England.

Perhaps, if she championed such a marriage, she would be able to entertain her nephew at court, which Anne remembered from her time as lady-in-waiting, she was never able to do, due to the way that the elder Princess Mary jilted him.

Wolsey wanted to be Pope, he wanted to use her children to achieve it, but it was beneficial for her if he used his diplomatic strengths to arrange matches that would make her husband's reign secure in the eyes of Europe, as well as her son's, when the time came. She did not know how much longer King Arthur would be alive, and it was likely that he would live long enough so that her children would not have the title Prince and Princess when their marriages would be arranged. She needed Wolsey's help, and despite her hesitance about meddling with the affairs of Rome, she wanted him to be Pope. He was not a young man, but he was not an old one either, and if he lived long enough for Henry to become King, it would be so useful for them.

Things were changing, and she knew Katherine engaged the services of a secretary as well. It could do her no harm to accept Wolsey's appointment, and to have this Thomas Cromwell as another ally. It was a good sign; it showed Wolsey appreciated her as a figure in her own right, as much as she could be. He clearly appreciated her ties to France, and her ability to win him delegates, when in the next few years he went to Rome to press his suit as Pope once Clement took his leave of the earth. Perhaps Cromwell was being brought to her because Wolsey wanted him to be Lord Chancellor when he left England to press his suit- she did not want to see More in the position and Wolsey had promised he would present her with a suitable replacement for himself if he was elected Pope.

Realizing she had yet to give Wolsey an answer, she extended her hand out for Cromwell to kiss, "Master Cromwell, I would be delighted to have you in my household. I hope it will be helpful for the future of my family," Anne expressed, motioning for him to rise.

Cromwell, for the first time, spoke, "It is my pleasure to service your grace in any way that I can." For his part, he was excited about serving the Duchess. Her reputation was high amongst most men at court, who said she was beautiful and sharp minded, with the ability to do get men to do her bidding. He felt that she was a good lady to have as an ally, and a way for him to rise. Cardinal Wolsey seemed fond of her, despite the fact that he knew she was devoted to Church reform. She was perhaps not as radical as him, as she seemed to be content with leaving the Catholic Church standing, but perhaps with her influence, its hold over people in England would be diluted. Even though she was scheming with Wolsey to make him Pope, it was likely that she was doing that for the benefit of her children, and not because she viewed the papacy as a good, moral institution.

Anne smiled at him and appraised him for a few moments, thinking she could trust him, at least marginally. "Your eminence, may I have a moment alone with Master Cromwell? I have a few things to discuss with him and I know how busy you are," Anne asked. She trusted Wolsey as much as she was going to, and while she enjoyed his friendship, she wanted to test Cromwell's loyalties. Was he Wolsey's man, but easily converted into her man? Was he Wolsey's spy, and he was paying him more than she could dream of? Or was he simply his own man, willing to sell out his allies for his own good? She knew one conversation would not decide it, but he hoped that she could start to piece together why Wolsey choose this man as her secretary.

Once Wolsey left, Anne beckoned Cromwell to her outer chamber and motioned for Madge to bring them both wine as she invited him to sit in the comfortable chairs next to her fireplace. February had been colder than usual and now that she was not playing with Hal and Lisbeth, she was shivering in the cold of the palace. "Master Cromwell, were you coerced into being the secretary of a poor woman such as myself, or did you volunteer?" Anne questioned, a wry smile playing on her lips.

Cromwell looked taken aback, but answered smoothly after a few moments pause, "His eminence believes your grace should have a secretary, and he felt you would feel the same way, considering that your grace's messages so far have been confined to Hampton Court or Whitehall, to their majesties. Surely your grace's correspondence will be needed elsewhere, in the near future." He was so anxious that she would approve his appointment, even though Wolsey should have consulted her first. He did not want to tell her outright that Wolsey hoped that he would be Lord Chancellor someday, as long as the Duke of York grew to like him. He would start in the Duchess' service, and then maybe work his way to the Duke's, or his wife would speak so fondly of him that he would be put in a position to usurp Wolsey's role in his life.

Wolsey also expressed that even though the Duchess was an intelligent, sharp-minded woman, who had proved herself capable of running her children's household as if they were already princes and princesses, she would still need a professional secretary to make sure that her interests were being protected once she entered into the politics of Europe, which Wolsey feared she was ignorant to.

"Of course," Anne responded by route. "Naturally I will see that your wage is increased, and that you have more suitable lodgings here, closer to my apartment. Have you a wife, Master Cromwell?" Anne asked. She could gauge that Cromwell was ambitious, probably the replacement that Wolsey was thinking of, potentially capable of being groomed towards the Lord Chancellorship. He would probably want to be presented to Henry at the closest possible opportunity, and it would be appropriate if his wife was present if they were to dine together.

"Yes your grace," Cromwell answered, "Her name is Elizabeth and we have a son, Gregory."

"Perhaps, sometime soon, she and your son can be brought to Hampton, for a visit. I'd so love to dine privately with you and your family, to get to know you better," Anne expressed. She noticed that his eyes were wandering over to her bible, which was unmarked, unlike the beautiful Latin copy in Katherine's suite. She smiled in praise at his curiosity, even though it was normally considered rude to ignore her requests in such a manner. "Master Cromwell, I take it you recognize my bible?"

Her Tyndale bible was unmarked, with a plain green cover, even though the inside pages were copied to perfection and it was the largest and best copy available in England. She would never gaudily display her bible, because it was not approved. She knew it was risky to have an open display of heresy in her room, but nobody ever remarked on it, and when the women in her service took an oath of loyalty towards her, that they would behave as befitting their stations, she was far more comfortable having the bible in English. When she was in confinement for her pregnancy, it was the only time the women ever read it out loud, and she knew even the girls with a poor education, who only knew the common prayers said in Mass in Latin, were able to understand it. It was so wrong for the Pope to keep them all in ignorance!

As long as the King and Queen said nothing of it, as well as Henry, she would not take it away.

"I admire your grace for your bravery, and for the spiritual nourishment you supply to your household," Cromwell said fervently, walking over the bible and opening it. "This is by far the finest copy I've seen." His own copy was well-worn, after his wife and him had poured over it countless times in the privacy of their home. Since he went to court, he kept his copy concealed safely under his pillow, in case the man he shared his chamber with was more loyal to the Church, a possibility since they both served a Cardinal. He was envious, and admiring, of the Duchess' clear support for a new religion.

"I believe we understand each other, Master Cromwell," Anne responded, smiling. She did not know if Wolsey knew the true nature of his former page, but she felt like the fates had aligned, giving her a man who was as disposed to reform as she was, if not more so. If he became devoted towards her, admiring of her, then of course he would advance her interests. "I look forward to our partnership in the coming months. I believe we will be the best of friends, Master Cromwell."

* * *

When Arthur came to Hampton Court this time, he came without as heavy a heart.

He knew that Henry and Anne were working on the kinks in their marriage, and that Henry had abandoned the company of other women and was devoted only to his wife, as was proper. The children, at least during little Lisbeth's birthday, seemed very happy, and Henry doted on them, as usual. Anne was resigned to attending Jane Seymour's wedding, and expressed that she could dance with a light heart if it meant making her into Jane Brandon, and kept her out of her husband's bed. And she was making allies at court, and her father was apparently treating her with more respect, and she had replaced Jane Seymour with a Howard girl, meaning that she would feel more secure and trusting of her household.

Arthur, for his part, would not be staying long this particular afternoon. It was a short barge ride over, and he had other business to attend to. Preparations for his and Katherine's summer progress were taking up a majority of his time. He did not go on progress as much as other monarchs, but Katherine desperately wanted to get away, and he did not have the heart to refuse such a request, considering that this was the first summer where he felt like it was feasible. He did not know how many more summers they would have together, and it would be nice to get away, and take only a few members with them- Anne, Henry, Hal was old enough to behave himself and handle the traveling, as well as his mother, More, and some other members of his Privy Council, including Anne's family.

He had not left Whitehall often to stay at other palaces, but it would be nice for a change of scenery, to have the good weather and his closest friends and courtiers with him. However, it did take a bit of preparation, more than he was used to dealing with, since he had shrugged off some of his responsibilities onto his Council and his wife, yielding to her pressure out of concern for his health. Still, he wanted to make time for Anne, and he wanted to see Lisbeth, Hal, and hopefully Edward. They were his heirs, after all, with the exception of Hal, who was still his nephew and would likely be a prominent member of court, considering the way Henry had always honored him.

Anne greeted him with a kiss and a warm hug, and wasted no time in explaining what she had hoped their afternoon would be like. "I was hoping we could all spend time in Lisbeth's rooms today- she is so eager for you to see them now that the renovations are complete," Anne gushed, pausing for a moment, as if to disremember Hal's bare suite as compared to his half-sister's opulent designed chambers, fit for a future Princess of England. "She reminds me so much of myself at that age, except with the funds to keep her poor servants running," Anne laughed. She would have made a lot of trouble for the servants at Hever if she was as rich as she currently was.

"As a future Princess ought to be," Arthur expressed, with a beaming smile, trying to conceal his own sense of sadness. He tried not to think of his daughter often, she had been dead for what seemed like ages, even though it would be only seven years in August. Yet his daughter would have been a married young lady now, almost fourteen, living at Ludlow with her husband and training to be the Queen of England after his death; and Anne's daughter would still live finely, but not at Hampton Court, with her own household- she would be a good friend to his daughter, he was sure of it, and Mary would have doted on her, as if they were sisters.

Anne and Henry would have posed a threat to her, of course, but after they came to recognize his daughter's considerable talents and ability, they would have relented and supported Mary, and she would have been secure. To keep the tears from flowing, thinking about how things could have been, he smiled widely at Anne, trying to think of the girl living who would be a Princess and not his daughter, he allowed Anne to escort him to her daughter's rooms.

He gasped when he saw them. If Anne had not told him that Lisbeth was put in charge of decorating her rooms alone, he never would have believed it possible that a little girl, newly five, would have been able to put together such a fine suite, truly befitting her station. He admired the plush purple carpet beneath his feet, and the presence chamber that he was standing it, richly furnished with Italian tapestries, clearly having inherited her mother's taste. The furniture was clearly imported as well, perhaps French, or more Italian, but it was certainly not English craftsmanship. It did not seem like a little girl, the daughter of his brother, was living here, but he remembered Henry at her age. He was pompous and stubborn, spoiled by their mother's affection, but not capable of having such a fine chamber. Their father had not wanted him to be built up as a potential heir, and a boy going into the Church would not require a Princely chamber, not like his elder brother. But he would have done the same thing at Elizabeth's age, to ensure that all those knew how great he would become.

If anything, Lisbeth was her father's daughter, even if Anne was the more present figure in her life. She was fiercely intelligent, dedicated to gaining a princely education, and acutely aware of her status as subordinated to her brothers, and to her, it was undeservedly so. She may have favored her grandmother and namesake greatly, but she was nothing like the docile woman who had been his father's queen. Arthur knew, like his daughter at once been, she would be capable of building, or destroying, empires if given the chance. His Mary was very much Isabella of Castile and Henry the Seventh's granddaughter, sweet and loving, innocent as well, but he could see the spirit within her. Lisbeth was a part of that legacy, even if she was not Katherine's daughter.

He waited patiently in her opulent presence chamber, listening with half an ear as Anne quizzed Lisbeth's governess about how their household was holding up, if she was enjoying her gifts and attentively seeing to her lessons. She needn't have asked, of course, but he was enjoying hearing about the little girl's attention to her studies, even if he was more curious about young Edward's- or at least he would be in a few years, when he was engaged with a proper tutor. He doubted that Anne would engage the Spanish tutor Mary had employed for Henry's heir; it was likely it would be a man loyal to the Howards, or one that Henry had found from Wolsey or some other source. Even so, he would still want to be kept updated, and continue his visits, and hopefully help arrange the marriage alliances.

Lisbeth came out of her rooms after a few more moments, and she dropped into a pretty, dignified curtsey when she recognized her visitor, even though it was sloppy and clearly revealed her ill-concealed excitement. "Your majesty," she addressed Arthur first, and then turned to her mother next, "your grace," she said loudly and clearly, giving her mother a slightly smaller curtsey, and then ran into her mother's outstretched arms. "Mama," she whispered in her mother's arms. Even though she had just seen her mama a few hours ago, she was always so excited to see her. After her mama released her, she ran into her uncle's outstretched arms, laughing wildly as he picked her up and spun her.

"How are you, my favorite niece?" Arthur asked, beaming at her as he set her down. He never would have said such a thing if little Frances was around, but she was in the nursery with little Edward. Her brother, Eddy as she called him, usually took his lessons with Hal but he still lived in the nursery with her- he was not willing to leave his baby sister, the last memory of his mother. Arthur did not visit them as often as he visited Anne's children, but he took care to send them gifts on both of their birthdays and stop by the nursery every once in a while.

Lisbeth gave him a glare, which was equal parts admiration and indignation. "Frances would not be happy to hear you say that," she replied, with a giggle.

"Can you keep a secret, my lady?" he asked, in a conspiring tone. At Lisbeth's nod, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and rewarded her with a sweetmeat, as he often kept in his pockets when he visited the children at Hampton Court.

Hal declined to visit with them that afternoon, and when Anne received the message from one of the young boy's household staff, she stiffened and frowned but said nothing else on the matter. Despite her best efforts, Hal's opinion of himself and his status was not as high as it should have been, and she wished that she could convince Arthur to give Hal a peerage, even if he was allowed to style himself lord. She knew she could not ask though- Henry would be cross with her for stepping over him and using his brother to advance his son, and it would be dangerous. Edward was the future King of England, and there should not be signals from anybody that Hal, due to his advanced age, would be the better choice.

Henry was a young man, sure to be King for a while, and there would be no impediment to their son inheriting. She regretted only one thing about her marriage, and that is how deeply her children's presence highlighted Hal's weakened status. Being around his King would only reinforce that, likely why he declined.

She was determined to make sure the King had a nice visit, and so the three of them went into Lisbeth's private chamber and dismissed all of their attendants. Arthur was the first one to speak, after Lisbeth had settled herself comfortably in her mother's lap. "I have a present for you, both of you. I forget it at Whitehall for your birthday celebrations, but then I remembered I have a part for your mother too," Arthur explained. He had kept them in the inside breast of his jacket, and he was grateful that the pouches they were in were both kept secure.

He handed the smaller one to Lisbeth first, watching her eyes light up as she opened it. It was a diamond necklace, likely the most beautiful piece the little girl had her already growing collection despite her age, but as he slyly presented the second pouch to Anne, revealing a matching necklace, slightly heavier and larger. He used to bestow such gifts on Mary and Katherine all of the time- it pleased him to see them matching from head to toe, highlighting both of their colors and beauties. Anne did not look much like her daughter, except for Lisbeth's dark eyes, which Henry had called bewitching when referring to his wife, but he felt that the piece he had given both of them would match their styles and would please them.

Lisbeth was the first respond, clamoring that her mother put it on and then she walked over the mirror and admired her reflection for a few moments, before throwing her arms around her uncle. "This is the best present, thank you Uncle Arthur," she cooed, kissing her uncle's cheek, retracting her earlier statement about Wolsey's bible. "Now I can look like Mama!" she exclaimed, the prospect pleasing her very much.

Her mama was the most beautiful woman at court, in her opinion, and she thought it was stupid for her papa to look at other ladies, and treat them the same as her mama. She did not know much about the lady that her mama and her papa fought over, nor could she remember seeing her, but Hal told her that he was a plain lady, who did not "sparkle" the way their mama did. Not even the Queen, who Lisbeth knew was much older than her mama but also was the only woman who outranked her, looked nicer than her mama.

Her mama was special and perfect and her papa should have never forgotten! At least her Uncle Arthur was fond of her mama, and she smiled at the sight of her uncle putting the necklace around her mama's neck, expressing that she looked beautiful. She saw tears well in her mama's eyes, which her uncle was quick to brush away. She remembered how her Uncle George used to come by, call her a beautiful princess, and comfort her mama when she was sad. If mama's real brother wasn't doing it, at least her papa's brother, and the King, was willing to make her feel better.

"Next time you come to Whitehall, you'll have to wear these, so the whole court will be jealous," Arthur stressed, watching with a paternal smile on his face as Anne began to remerge through Lisbeth's immense wardrobe, picking out gowns that would suite her new piece of jewelry and beginning to draw out sketches for some new ones that she could wear when Henry had his birthday celebrations.

"Mama, do I like pretty? Like a princess?" Lisbeth asked, and Arthur could not even bear to hear the response.

Unbidden, Arthur was struck by a memory.

_Mary had not been at court for long, and Arthur regretted how limited things had been due to his sister's betrayal. He had not gotten a chance to spend much time with his daughter, due to the business of smoothing over diplomatic relations. Now that his sister was gone from court, and Mary's birthday celebrations were fast approaching, Katherine had been lighter, happier. He walked into his daughter's set of rooms, delighted by the scene unfolding before him. _

_Katherine was finishing the last laces on their daughter's gown, a small miniature of the one his wife was wearing. It was the first time they were going to dine in the Great Hall, and Arthur knew his wife was making sure that their daughter looked regal and poised, the true heir to the throne and nobody else, despite what her aunt had done earlier that month. He was shocked by how beautiful his little girl looked, as if she had grown up and he did not even realize it. _

"_Ladies," he greeted, kissing both of them, standing back as the two women he loved more than life itself continued to ready themselves in the mirror. He heard Katherine whisper something in Spanish to Mary, too low for him to hear, and his daughter beamed and smiled. _

_She took his outstretched arm on his left, while Katherine took his right. Before they left, she turned to him, "Papa, am I always going to your special girl, your princess?" _

"_Yes my darling. There is no girl in the whole of England, born or unborn, that could ever overshadow you." _

Two weeks later, Mary was dead.

It was unseemly to weep in front of his subjects, so Arthur did not. He held in his tears and his sadness like he had been trained to do, even if Anne was his sister by marriage and Lisbeth was his niece, they were still his subjects and they were still not supposed to see his weakness. He had never shown his weakness in front of Katherine either, he was not allowed to, not in front of his brother, or his mother, his beloved mother who surely would have understood. And he felt wrong thinking of Mary when the lively girl in front of him was so excited about the life ahead of her, as she should have been.

The mother and daughter in front of him were very much alive, looking forward to years of banquets, matching jewelry, gowns, plotting marriage arrangements and admiring each other's reflections. Mary and Katherine never had the chance. Katherine laid the blame at her own door, the women he had loved for over twenty years was unbearably sad because she thought she had killed their daughter. Anne was more fortunate than she would know. She would never be burdened with that kind of sadness, and Arthur would always pray that Henry and Anne were spared from the pain that he and Katherine felt daily.

His heirs did not come from him; they were not created by him. They were his blood but they were not _his_. His only child, his only true heir, had brought him so much joy and was so perfect, even though she wasn't; she was frail and weak because she was _his_.

His blood, his seed, it killed their children. If his duty as King was to provide the country, to provide his wife, with children, with heirs that he could train and groom and perfect into the King he wanted. He had provided England with a weak, sickly- but bright, sharp, charming daughter in place of the strapping son that he was supposed to give them. He had failed. Katherine bore the shame of their failure, but it was not her fault.

He had never told her. He had allowed her to blame herself for so many years.

He never wanted to feel this way when spending time with his niece and his nephews. He wanted to feel joy, promise and hope for the future. He wanted to feel the same way he felt when he looked at Mary. Lisbeth was a girl and therefore would never inherit, not like her younger brothers, and perhaps that's why he did not feel so badly spending time with them. But Lisbeth was a daughter, the apple of her mother's eye and before Henry betrayed both of them, Henry and Lisbeth had the same relationship he had enjoyed once with Mary.

It had all gone wrong and Anne and her daughter would never fill the hole that his impotency had created within him, as hard as he tried.

He had to leave. He would not cry in front of them. He stayed for a brief dinner, acting as if nothing had disturbed him, as if a simple question asked in front of a mirror to her mother had not created a deep disturbance within him, and then he left, grateful that the sound of the drums on the barge that carried him were loud enough to drown out his muffled sobs.

* * *

Katherine knew there was something wrong with Arthur did not come to her chambers, as he usually did, to spend the night.

Sometimes she would sleep in his, but he always joked that he preferred her bed, even though she knew what he truly preferred was that Maria was often the only one attending her once it was generally time to retire, and she was the first one in the mornings, affording the couple privacy that they had not been always able to enjoy. Some may have marveled that her husband continued to share her bed even though there was clearly no hope of any more children, and Katherine was wise enough to hear those grumblings at court, but she took comfort in that. Theirs was a true marriage that not many couples could boost, not even Henry and Anne, who married for love.

So when he did not come to her at night, she knew something had happened.

She constantly feared his illness, waiting for the day when she would be barred from his chamber and never allowed back in, and that he would die without being able to say goodbye or without making the proper arrangements, or without one last exchange where they could be alone and be Katherine and Arthur. Yet, she knew that since he had begun to absence himself from Council meetings, sending her in his steed and trusting in Henry's ability to run the meetings as President, and he limited himself to more manageable tasks- she noticed his health had improved and she was truly grateful that the physician's advice had been worth something this time.

She also knew he had started to visit Hampton Court more, which did not worry Katherine, despite the cold weather being adverse to his health. She had not had as much time to visit with Anne since after Christmas, the affairs of state had become more unsteady since Pope Clement took ill and Thomas More began his persecution of secret Lutherans, and so she was glad that Arthur was there to provide her the comfort she was lacking due to Henry's coldness. He did not tell her he was visiting, but she knew why- he did not want to hear her protests about his health, protests she could not promise she wouldn't make even if she approved of the nature of the visits.

She just prayed that he had not taken ill again. She did not want to be a widow yet, and she knew God would not be that cruel, not after taking her poor children, her poor Mary, away from her.

She rushed to his chambers and was admitted swiftly, squashing her fears and doubts. She was relieved to see him at his chair, so much so that she did not hear his soft weeping. She just ran over to her husband and threw her arms around him, placing a smacking kiss on his lips. "Oh my darling, my love, I thought that you were ill. Thank god!" she devoutly proclaimed, and when she pulled away she noticed his face was wet with tears. "What on earth is the matter, my poor husband? Was it Anne, the children?!" she asked, concerned.

She had hoped that the reports were truthful, that Anne and Henry were getting on better these days that Jane Seymour was still languishing at Wolf Hall, waiting for her spring wedding to a simple gentleman, even if Brandon was the former husband of a Princess of England. She had every reason to believe that they were, if anything, her mother-in-law had a talent for dramatics and not for downplaying the events at Hampton Court and within the York family. Even so, Henry was capable of cruelty, or perhaps the children had taken ill, which would be too painful for her to bear. Hadn't this family lost enough already?

"No," he choked; moving to get away from her, as if the sight of her was painful to him.

Katherine felt a ripple of hurt move through her. What had she done to upset him? She had been attending the meetings like he had asked; she had not overstepped her limits, said or done anything to Henry. He had not reacted so coldly to her presence in years, not since before Henry and Anne were married. She felt herself grow cold as well; she would not let him get to her. "Well, what is the matter then?" she asked sharply.

"How many times throughout the day do you think of her?" Arthur asked calmly, not betraying any signs of hurt at her tone. Tears were still streaming down his face, but he looked at his wife calmly, not bothering to clarify when she looked at him confused. "I didn't about her for a long time. Years. I thought if I forgot about it the pain would go away and it would be okay. But it isn't."

Katherine, finally understood his meaning, and she did not cry, not right away. Arthur was suffering and she would not force him to be strong to comfort her, like he had throughout their entire marriage. He had been strong for her while she hurt, but it was his dreams he had given up too, it was his kingdom he wanted their child to inherit. She had been selfish but she would not give up on him now, she would allow him to be upset, just for once, about their Mary.

"I think of her when I wake up and realize I cannot expect a letter from her or about her, or when I look at your still sleeping face and it reminds of hers. I think of her at each meal, especially when they serve her favorite dish, and how she used to pout when they'd give her fish. I think of her when we retire, when we say our prayers, and how she used to stumble over the sign of the cross. I think of her when I live every piece of my day because I know there's no hope I will see her, like I used to, and I have to remind myself of that," Katherine answered, keeping the pain out of her voice, with some difficultly. Yet they were thoughts she had for years, and she had them every day, that it was no trouble to repeat them by route.

Arthur looked up at her, a stunned expression around his worn features. He looked too old for how young he was, burdened with years of not only rule but of having to hide his feelings. Katherine regretted that she had been so difficult when their daughter was alive, and afterwards. She was always the one grieving, when she stopped bleeding, and everything was lost, all of their dreams, it was she who had cried on his shoulder. Her husband was burdened with sadness, but he did not feel like he could unburden himself, not the same way she could. Mary was dead and she missed her terribly, missed what could have been, but she allowed her to become a pleasant memory of her life, and wanted to remember what was so wonderful about hers and Arthur's daughter. In a way, it was a blessing she could remember her so clearly- it showed that she had truly spent as much time as possible with her precious darling.

"Today was the first time I had thought about her. She would have been fourteen soon, in a few months. I would have commissioned Holbein to paint a portrait of all of us, and she'd come to court, and then bundle up to Ludlow a few weeks later," he paused, taking a sharp intake of breath. "I tried not to think about her because I thought Henry's children could become my children. Then today I looked at little Elizabeth today and thought; I'd love to have a daughter who favored my mother like that, like Mary favored you. But it hit me that we never would and that we'd never have a son that we could speculate what kind of ruler he would become," he continued, getting up to pace, when another thought struck him, painfully, "We spent all of Mary's life securing her position as heir when our son would have been uncontested. I would have named him George, like Saint George, and he would have had your hair and my eyes, and perhaps my brother's spirit. We could have been a proper family, with Mary making a fine royal match and our son becoming the Prince of Wales."

Katherine had thought about that too, since she had married Arthur, what her son would have look liked, been named; the future King of England, a half-Spanish, half-English King, like her mother would have always wanted. She let that thought pass after Mary was born, focused all of her energies on her, and when Mary died; she began to focus her attention on Anne, grooming her to be the monarch she knew that her daughter could have been. She did not like to focus on what-ifs, the tangibles were always better, but Arthur did not want to hear that. What he needed to hear what she had been telling herself since it became clear that any child they had would have been compromised immediately by illness, because God had almost struck down her husband but kept him around, leaving them with no children but always with each other.

They were meant to be the King and Queen of England, God had made that clear, and they were meant to love each other deeply, and she knew that she was blessed to have a husband, even if she was childless. Her Mary had brought her joy for seven blessed years, and she knew she would rather have the memories of her Princess of Wales instead of never having a child. Their hardship strengthened their bond and allowed them to move forward to the task of grooming Arthur's brother, his wife, and their children. She stopped blaming herself and continued to strive to make England better, as was her goal in life. She hoped that the approval that Mary had garnered in her short life was a step towards making it more acceptable for a King to leave behind a female heiress- and if that was her daughter's contribution to England, she would have been pleased with that legacy.

She moved over to him, glad when he did not pull away from her embrace, and she walked him over to his bed, rubbing her hands through his hair, like she would have done if Mary was sick. "My love, it is God's will, our hardship has made us stronger, and we have been better because of it. We have no children but we have each other, and you have always said that is more than enough, and I believe that now, as must you. If you do not, your sorrow will consume you," Katherine reasoned, distressed to see him this way. He had always been the strong one, always so secure in everything, in their love they shared. She did not know what she would do if he allowed his sorrow to define him, as he had never done before.

They had lived too long, been through too much together, to regret this way, to let the ghosts of their daughter and all of their nameless, dead children hang over their marriage.

The next words he spoke were so soft Katherine had to strain to hear them, but when she did, they disturbed her, "It is my fault. It is my entire fault and I let you take the blame. It is my fault we could never have children, it is my fault Mary died, and yet you are filled with sorrow and poisoned memories and I have pretended that my brother's children could fill a void."

Katherine spun up from the bed at once, staring down her husband with bloodshot eyes, tears that wanted to come out but she would not allow. Her voice was firm and unyielding when she spoke next, "No. I burden myself because I was raised to be the mother of England heirs, but you were raised to be King, and you have always done that and done it well. There is _nobody_ you can blame." She would not let him do this, after so many years. He had been strong and it was his defense and he was better for it.

"It is my fault!" he shouted, rising to meet her eyes. Katherine did not let herself flinch at his tone, it was not towards her, but towards God, for letting him live but taking his virility. Knowing he needed to unburden himself, she did not interrupt him. He continued, his breathing turning rapid, "Mary never had a chance; we should have begun our goodbyes the moment she was born. All of those babies, boys and girls, you carried for five months only to cause you pain and humiliation, and for you to have guilt. I should have freed you from this marriage so you could be a mother, and not have to watch my brother and his wife parade their fertility and plan the future for _our _kingdom. That is my burden and mine alone."

Katherine stood up and pulled his collar forward so he was facing her. She forced him to look at her, her next words coming clearly and firmly, leaving no room for argument, "You are a fool if you truly believe that," she began, ignoring his protest. "From the beginning, it was us two, we were partners. Those heirs were ours, regardless of the blame; the loss was both of ours and we bore that together. I will not let you sully our marriage and drag it down because of your guilt. We are better than that, we are stronger than that. It is God's will that it just the both of us and I will be damned if I let my husband lose sight of that!"

Arthur put his hands through her hair, admiring the strand of it before kissing her forehead. "You ought to hate me. I let you grieve for Mary as if you were the one who killed her, for all of those children as if it was your fault. What I should have done, instead of hold you and tell you next time would be better, is say I'm sorry. And I am. I am so sorry," he wept, not even noticing when Katherine pulled him into her. "My love, please forgive me. My coldness, my formality, my father's traits, and my impotency I am so sorry. It was me, it was me I should have reminded you daily, and I'm sorry for failing you."

Denial would do her no good. Clearly her husband would only be assuaged if she forgave him for the imagined fault. He could not be blamed for the childlessness, of course, no more than she could be. They were not blessed that way and they had to stay strong because of it, while his brother abused his wife because he was unfaithful and she confronted him. Even with three children, Anne would not be happier than Katherine, she was sure of it, which is why she needed to make sure she was protected and trained for the challenges she would face. Katherine would have relished the opportunity to have Mary in her life, but she had to move forward, and help her sister by law with whatever she needed, for Anne was the only hope she had left of making sure England was ruled, at least in part, by what Arthur and her had worked for.

"I love you," Katherine expressed, kissing him and explaining. "Since I was a girl I always knew I was going to be the Princess of Wales and the Queen of England. My mother told me it was my duty to provide you with children, for England, for Spain, for my husband. If I did not, it was my failure, and I should expect nothing from you." He opened his mouth to protest, and she silenced it with her finger. "I cannot forgive you for a fault that is truly not one. Another Prince would have blamed me, ruined me, and tried to set me aside. You made our daughter your heiress, when it would have been easier to make your brother your heir, and you have always, always bore me the type of love I never expected to have from anybody. Real, faithful, and true love which I would not trade for Anne's nursery if it meant having a prince like Henry for a husband."

"My love was enough for you to be childless? Because yours has always been enough for me but I would not hold you to the same standard, and I should have asked, and I will regret that, just as I regret that I do not think of Mary and feel the same pain you do," Arthur stated, trying to smile, to stay strong for her but he felt so full of heavy burden, not the same kind he was used to. Perhaps visiting Hampton Court so often was a mistake, made him think of things he perhaps should have left buried with his daughter. When Katherine nodded, smiling at him through watery tears, he knew that all was well on that score. "I am sorry you have had to deal with this alone. We should have mourned together and now I am seven years late."

Katherine shook her head, knowing that Arthur was better off not feeling the way she had for years. "I do not think you should envy me my memories, darling. I am resigned to them, Mary is a happy memory for me which does not sadden me, but it took me a long time to feel this way," she explained. Better that Arthur continue to keep himself stoic about the death of their daughter. He was the one that was supposed to be strong, and he always had been. While she locked herself away in her rooms for months after their daughter's death, he planned for the future. If he had not done that, she did not know where things would be now.

Anne and Henry were going to marry without their blessing, so it was better to give it to them instead of deny it. Arthur saw the wise measure in planning a grand wedding, signaling that he was their heirs and their children would be as well, and that they were to take the place of their daughter. It was not easy for him, she was sure, and she would not have been able to put her mind to it the same way he did, but that is why they worked so well together. It had taken a while for her to come around, but when she did, when Elizabeth of York pointed her in the right direction, she knew that her place was with Anne, mentoring her and getting to know her children. The children knew her as their aunt, and they loved her, filling the void in her heart- but Arthur was just now getting to know Anne the same way Katherine had come to love her. Henry's slap at awoken a part of her husband that she had not seen before, or at least in many years, and her husband was now determined to protect the only sister he had left.

Of course, these things came at a price, and now he was facing down feelings he had clearly repressed about their daughter. He could be strong for Anne but now that things were okay, he had to face constantly that Anne was the mother of England's heirs, and not his own wife, not her. As much as that once hurt Katherine, she could imagine the acute failure he felt was just as bad, if not worse, considering his attitude beforehand. Arthur had been able to stay busy, but Katherine was not willing to lose him if the affairs of State would prematurely kill him. Her husband, her King, he was far too precious to lose on that. He would just need to be strong like he had always been, but now for himself and not for her.

Arthur's voice, not quite as sad and helpless as just moments earlier, roused her from her thoughts, "I should not envy many people, should I? I have you as my Queen, and clearly, you are the most adapt to deal with your oddly-timed grieving husband," Arthur joked lightly. "I just miss her, and what she represented for us- she was our hope, and our future. She's gone and I have to accept it, as you have, my strong lady."

"I would not have accepted it if not for you," Katherine protested as Arthur sat back down on the bed, holding his arms out for her to fall into. She put herself on his knee, sighing contently as he moved her hair to her right side and breathed a kiss on her neck.

After a few more moments, after both of them had clearly relaxed, Katherine had a thought strike her. "You know, I gave Anne Mary's christening gown, the one that you were also christened in. It was my signal that I accepted her as my successor, and her son as yours, and it gave me closure that Mary was truly gone. Perhaps you should do something for Anne that proves you view her as not only your sister officially, but as your heiress?" Katherine mused. Arthur had protected Anne and guided her in many ways, and while Henry was more his heir, his brother had always enjoyed princely status, had always been a part of his family, and bore a royal title. Anne was his wife and was not entitled to the same things, independent of her marriage. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest that he take a few pieces from the official jewels of the Queen of England to give to her early, but her husband had a better idea.

"My mother and you were both deeded estates when you were crowned. If Anne is to be a true lady of this family, I think I will give her Richmond, which my mother just turned over to me, as her London residence if she needs to quit her husband for a few days and in the country…" Arthur trailed off for a few moments. He had thousands of unused estates had his disposal but he did not want to make the decision lightly. Anne needed to know that this was his way of welcoming her, even though it has been six years since she married his brother, and he had already signaled that their children were his heirs. His anger was renewed when Henry asked to make Brandon Duke of Suffolk, so he could marry her to his cast off mistress. If any husband had dared to treat Mary in such a way, he would have made his displeasure known. "I will give her the estates generally given to the Duke of Suffolk. The peerage has been vacant for quite some time now, and they are suitably far enough away in London, and it will give her an allowance separate from Henry's."

Katherine smiled, thinking the idea suitable, as she should have received those at her marriage ceremony but Arthur had commissioned jewels instead, and Katherine had given Anne some silks from Florence that she could make into the gowns of her choice. She felt silly for overlooking such a thing, but now Arthur could remedy it, and it would be coming at a good time, when she still felt unsure in her marriage. "It will unburden your conscience, I promise," Katherine stated as an afterthought, leaning more into his embrace, giggling as she felt his hands slide underneath her laces.

When they were first married, Arthur remembered that they used to profess, before they made love, that they were going to make their Prince of Wales- and after Mary, they were going to give her a baby brother or sister to play with. Afterwards, they would lie in bed and discuss names- boys' names, as if not to jinx themselves- and they did not allow themselves to lose hope even when it seemed bleak. It was their duty but it was their passion as well. They had not said anything of the sort since Katherine had told him she had stop bleeding, the day Edward was born, but they did not stop their passion.

Tonight, Katherine surprised him, stripping off his doublet and whispering in his ear, "For us, my King, and for nobody else." Arthur grinned widely and began to unlace her gown with urgency, thoughts of their infertility banishing with her kisses.

It was the first true smile he had worn all day, and Katherine was relieved to see it. If it was just going to be her and her husband for the rest of their lives, she knew that God had truly sent her the right man.

* * *

_A Few Days Later_

Anne was not aware that there was a visitor in the nursery, as she had just left her mother-in-law after they had knitted a new gown for William together and her husband was at Whitehall and Brandon had gone to visit his mother in preparation for his wedding. She was not informed of the King and Queen coming to visit; usually they sent a message or came to greet her first. She was sure it had to be her sister, coming to visit her newly settled children, but she was surprised when Lady Bryan revealed the identity of the visitor.

"Mistress Seymour came to see Lord Edward and Lady Frances Brandon this morning, your grace. She had sent a message a few days ago, alerting me of her visit, if your grace objects…" Lady Bryan began, knowing that Mistress Seymour had been the Duke of York's mistress, but that she was going to marry Charles Brandon, and she did not see harm in letting their new stepmother come to visit them early, but if the Duchess objected, she would waste no time in bustling Mistress Seymour out of the servants entrance so the Duchess could visit her sons unmolested, even if Mistress Seymour was in a different part of the nursery. Due to the Earl of Kendal's status, he was in a more opulent apartment, but there was a general presence chamber, where Mistress Seymour was currently visiting with the children that would soon be hers by marriage. The Duchess could easily visit with her Edward in his apartments, but she would not force the Duchess to do such a thing. The nursery was hers and she visited at her leisure.

"No, that is quite alright Lady Bryan, thank you," Anne replied quickly, not wanting a confrontation. She did not want to see Mistress Seymour until she became Mistress Brandon, but she would not force the woman out of the nursery. Frances certainly needed a mother, and while she wanted a more honorable lady to serve this purpose for her beloved niece, she knew that the situation could not be altered. She would have to get used to her presence, in any case, as she would not bar the woman from her stepchildren- that would cause more of a disturbance for the motherless children. "You may leave us for now," Anne dismissed, as certainly the governess was used to.

Lady Bryan had served as Elizabeth's governess before Edward was born, when she was transferred to him and Elizabeth now had Lady Salisbury, the Princess Mary's former governess, at Katherine's suggestion. Lady Bryan was Anne's kinsman and she trusted her more than Salisbury, but so far, both governesses had proved to care deeply for their little charges, and were capable of dealing with Anne's daily visits to them, and Henry's regular ones, as well as the Queen, and recently, the King's frequent visits. Lady Bryan at Anne's request, as she expected, busied herself with some other task, as Anne was more than capable of fetching her sons.

She waited to enter the large, open presence chamber, listening quietly from beyond the curtain to hear what Jane was saying to her niece and nephew. She knew once she entered that Jane would scramble up into a curtsey, and things would turn awkward. She wanted to know what she was doing beforehand.

"So you will be my new mama?" Frances asked, and Anne was sure that Jane had a pained look on her face, the same one she always wore when Anne so much as glanced in her direction while she was in her household. She had never seen Jane around small children, so she had no idea how she would react to marrying into not only an infamous adulterer, but also two small children with royal blood coursing through their veins, the same amount her own children had. Anne knew her sister-in-law, if she were still alive, would have judged Jane Seymour to be unworthy of her time, but would have been happy to know that her daughter now had a mother, after she prayed so badly for a daughter to love. Charles had become a good father to his children, at last, but she knew Frances wanted a mother, as she had no memories of hers.

"Well, Frances, your mother is your mother, and I know she loved you, and you as well Eddy, very much," Jane began, and Anne held in her scoff. Jane knew nothing of her sister-in-law, but she held her tongue, curious as to what she would say. "But your papa and I are going to get married which means that I will be your mother by law. So I hope that we can be friends, and that someday, we can be a family."

"How did you meet my papa?" Eddy asked. Anne held her breath, nervous for the answer.

Jane, for her part, knew that she was not going to tell her new son the unorthodox circumstances of her marriage, to happen in April, which she had begun to reconcile herself to. Her brother Edward was thrilled that her children would be in the inner-circle, hopefully, along with her stepchildren, and that through them, the Seymour family could rise very high. Charles Brandon was likely to be an honored member of King Henry the Eighth's court, and as a result, Jane's brothers and father could be invited to court as his bequest, perhaps gaining favor that way. It is what they wanted out of her affair, and they were pleased.

She missed Henry. She missed him so desperately that she would often curl up alone in her bedroom in Wolf Hall and cry all night. She blamed Anne for finally getting into Henry's head, convincing him that Jane needed to be married off. There was still hope that after she was married that he would want her again, but Jane was told to refuse his advances, and she knew there was sense in that. There was no future for her and the Duke of York, and it was better that her husband come to love her and appreciate her, and that they have a family of their own. Perhaps the Duchess would stop hating her, and she could be a good mother to Brandon's children, and he could perhaps someday come to love her, although she was not the type of woman that would typical be able to keep up with a man like him.

If she was not going to be with Henry she would have preferred a quiet life in the country, with a man who did not have any ambition, but that would have made her brother and father so angry- they told her it was better this way and she thought it could be. She wanted Charles Brandon to respect her despite the fact that she had openly lived as his best friend's mistress, and certainly Anne had poisoned his mind against her, saying that Jane was probably unworthy to be his wife or the mother to his children. She just prayed that Brandon would not be cruel to her, and know that what she did was because of how she felt about Henry and because her family told her to.

At least that's what she would tell him when they were wed, when he had to lie with her even though she was not a virgin any longer and not worthy of having such a fine match. But Brandon loved his best friend, and certainly would know that any woman that his friend could love, Brandon could find room in his heart to welcome her as well- especially if his children warmed up to her, even before they were married. Even if that meant sharing space with Anne every once in a while, she would accept that as the price to pay so that her new husband could care for her, advance her family, and keep her at court.

"When I was a lady to your aunt, The Duchess of York, your papa was often in her rooms, and although we did not know each other very well, I am a good friend to your uncle, the Duke, and he thought I would make a good husband to his friend and brother, and that I would make a good mama to you two," Jane explained with a honey smile. It was partly the truth, but the children were likely to catch the implication that "friend" held, especially when she herself did not catch it right away.

Anne was pleased with the way she had handled herself in response to the children's question, and when Frances clamored for Jane to read them a story, Jane did not hesitate to walk over to the bookshelf and sit down with her soon to be stepchildren and read them a story, the legend of King Arthur, after confirming that this legend did not deal with their uncle, but with the Arthur that came before him.

Anne knew that Jane's arranged marriage had not been easy for her, at least she could imagine. Anne knew she was fortunate to be married to the man that she wanted, to have Hampton Court and her children and the King and Queen as her brother and sister and to expect a future as the Queen of England- and to gain back a mother, a concept that she thought she had lost. Brandon's mother was a kind woman, but very aged, so much that Jane would be unlikely to meet her, and Brandon had no siblings to speak of. She would be isolated, dependent on the kindness of her new husband and his children, who were royalty. She could imagine that Jane was very frightened by the prospect, knowing little about her bridegroom, and having no other choice, in order to save her reputation.

Jane had acted foolishly and Anne could not feel sorry for her, but regardless, she thought it was admirable for her to try to get to know the children and to make the best out of it. She would never like the woman who usurped her husband's affection, but like her sister said, there was no woman alive who could take away her victory. Jane would never steal Henry completely and she had lost him. Anne found it hard to like her, to be that gracious in her victory, because looking at her placid face just inspired anger in her still, but she knew she needed to be cordial towards her, for the sake of their children, and their husbands.

If she was not, her court, her home, which she had worked six years to make perfect, would be compromised, and she would not let Jane Seymour win in that way.

Anne felt herself hesitant to break up the idyll, but she did come to see her sons, and so walked in the room, kneeling down as Frances and Eddy ran into her arms. "How are, my darlings?" she asked, accepting their sloppy kisses. "Is Mistress Seymour doing a good job of entertaining you this afternoon?" Anne asked, sparing a smile at Jane, who had curtsied before her, and she motioned for her to rise. She looked as she remembered her, perhaps a bit sadder and more tired, but still open, pale, and with a slight beauty that he knew had attracted her husband to her in the first place. She held back her anger and focused back on her niece and nephew.

"Yes auntie," Eddy replied politely, grasping Frances' hand. His sister was happy and excited for their papa to get married, but he was still weary of it. It had just been the three of them since his mama died, and Frances never knew their wonderful mama. He could never replace his mama in his heart, and he still prayed to her every day, but for Frances's sake, he would try very hard to be kind to Jane, knowing that even if he did not need a new mama, his sister did. "Are you here to see William and Edward?" he asked. It was usually very confusing for them to have two Edwards in the nursery, but he knew his cousin was more important than him, so he was Edward and he was Eddy, and Frances loved the nickname anyway.

"I am, I hope that they have not been giving their older cousin too much trouble," Anne said with a jesting smile. She had offered to move Eddy out of the nursery, close to Hal in less large apartments, but he had declined. He did not want to leave his sister, and as a result, he was much older than the other children, until Katherine Carey came, that is. She was glad that her sister's children had adjusted so well to the others, and she knew that once they got older, William and Annie would also become the best of friends.

She was glad the nursery at Hampton was so large, or else they may have had to move the children to Hatfield, too far away for her liking. She was so used to visiting them every day; she could not bear the thought of them being so far away, even if Hatfield was where Katherine's daughter had stayed before moving to her establishment at Ludlow. Her children's place was at court with her and Henry, and she hoped that their cousins could be close as well, even if it meant possibly having to share the nursery with Jane and Brandon's children- since Henry thought so highly of his friend, and she knew it would be cruel to separate siblings.

"No, they are good," Eddy replied, even if they did sometimes get on his nerves, as Edward could be so pompous and silly, he still loved them.

Anne chatted with them for a few more moments before heading to Edward's rooms. Anne was going to leave the Brandon children and their future stepmother alone in the living room, but she was also uncomfortable with the idea of hiding away in Edward's apartments with her two sons. William was still a baby, nearly seven months old, but he was old enough to sit with her as Jane read a story. Her voice was pleasant enough, she supposed, and she needed to know that Anne was here daily, and that this was her nursery, under her control, and she would be a visitor only. No better way of sending that message than sitting out with them.

She greeted Edward first, laughing as she scooped him into a hug and tickled his belly. "How is my precious boy?" she asked. After feeding him a sweetmeat and asking him a few more questions about his day, she opened her palm so he would hold her hand, and then walked over into where the cribs were. William and Annie currently shared the part of the nursery set aside so their crying would not disturb the other children, but once William turned one he would be given a room like his brother's. For now, she gingerly lifted him out of his crib, smiling as he wrapped his finger around hers and gave her a gummy smile.

Jane seemed shocked when she lead her children out into the large presence chamber, but curtsied once more, once to Anne, once to Edward, and then lastly to the baby in her arms. "Would you like to join our story, your grace?" Jane asked, knowing that it was generally out of place to ask, but that she knew that if this was going to work, she needed to treat Anne kindly. She knew that they would never be friends, nor did she ever want to be friends with such a woman! But if Brandon was to like her, she needed to cultivate a more cordial relationship with her former mistress. If things had worked out differently, if she had been brought to court before Anne, she knew it would be the other way around, but she could not go back in time and change things.

"Thank you, Mistress Seymour, I think we'd like that," Anne replied with a smile, sitting down on the ground with the four children and her former rival, as they all became entranced in the story of King Arthur, interjecting with questions for Jane or Anne at opportune moments.

Anne knew that if she could be this way with Mistress Seymour, able to stand in the same room with her and find common ground, then she knew that it was time for her to open up to Henry, and truly forgive him.

* * *

It had gone on long enough.

Now would be the time that their ban would have ended, and Anne missed him. She missed the way she felt when she was with him, in bed, and she missed the way he used to look at her.

If she could open up her mind to Jane, to have Jane in her life again, and that she could tolerate her presence for a few hours, then she knew that regardless of what had happened with Henry in the past- he had been trying, making a true and loud effort, then she needed to be a full wife to him again. She could only keep him waiting for so long; it had been almost a year, almost as long as it had been when they were waiting to get married. It was foolish for her to continue to hold out on him, and dangerous.

He was not the same man anymore, and she needed to be with him again. If she did not, she may have to hold her tongue and entertain another mistress in her nursery, or perhaps next time he won't even have enough respect to end it for their marriage, he may take away her control of the nursery, her almost sole control over her children's tutors and attendants, and perhaps share it with a live-in mistress. She was sure Jane would have done such a thing, and since she was no longer in favor, perhaps another one of the pretty girls at Hampton could take her place, marry well, and have their children in the nursery and have some control.

If it was a Howard, her uncle or father would never blink an eyelash or try to get Henry back to her. They would support it, now that she had Edward and he thrived and he would be King someday and she would be Queen- that's all they needed from her. Her father may have feared her losing favor with her husband but she knew that he would be no worse if it was another member of their family, and now that Arthur was planning on ennobling her father further, he would not need her anymore.

She tried to gather her allies but all she had was herself at the end of the day, and this marriage, and this marriage needed to be passionate and loving as it used to be. If it was not, she could lose everything. She knew her husband loved her and things had not gotten nearly that bad, but if she denied him her bed, he would not force himself on her, he would go elsewhere soon enough. She knew that she was not the last ambitious girl at court, either at Whitehall or Hampton, and there would be plenty waiting to get to her husband- she wasn't sure that the Seymours would stop now that Jane was to be married.

Even if she gave him another child, that would certainly be to her benefit, even if she did have to be in confinement. He always loved her when she was with child, always so excited and attentive to her and if she had not needed to go in confinement early with William certainly things would not have needed to go so sour so fast. She needed to gain the upper hand in their marriage, because she knew that his current concern would only last so long, before he grew impatient and angry.

She was scared, she knew it. She was scared of him still, but she knew what she had to do. She was angry at him, but she knew that she could have Jane around her without flying into a rage or a depression. She was scared of what the future held, but she would soon have put into motion a set of advisors that Henry thought he was picking, but really that she had patronized. She knew that her influence was high now, and that she was safe now. She did not need to fear now, but she had reason to fear for the future, so she needed to secure it.

His grooms were dismissed; she had planned on staying in his rooms tonight anyway. She crossed the threshold into his bedroom and before he spoke she took off her nightgown at the doorway and invited her husband back into her life.

_Author's Note: The dialogue in this is long and monologue-y, but I needed this chapter to hammer some things out. Next chapter will probably be another long one, and will likely include Brandon and Jane's wedding. This one I do not consider filler, so I hope you enjoyed it, and I really hope that you all a) Have a very safe and fun holiday and b) review :) until next time, thanks for reading- Marissa_


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